The Visser Humiliation Club
by Riza-san
Summary: Join the adventures of Tom, Taylor, Erek and a random Hork-Bajir named "Gafrash" as they attempt to bring down and humiliate Visser One and Visser Three. One-shot made story. Rated T, because of complete randomness. -Finally updated!-
1. Dinner For Two

**A/n: This idea has been sitting in my head for ages now, until I couldn't ignore it. The next chapter for "As If By Magic" is still being Beta-Read, so I thought, "why not?"**

**I'm sorry for anybody else who has done something similar to this. I did not under any circumstances intend to copy you. **

**I would probably give credit to Mrowrkat98 though, as number 2 and 3 were kind of inspired by her (her, right?) list on 100 ways to annoy Animorphs and Company.**

**Anywho, on with the disclaimers!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Animorphs, I wouldn't have left you with an awful cliffhanger at the end of the series.**

**WARNING: Contains possibly high levels of OOCness. This is not beta-read. Please point out mistakes. Read with caution. Also, rated T. Why? Read and find out!**

**(UPDATE: I went over this, and proofread it. No doubt there will still be mistakes, though. Also, this now going to be made into it's own story, instead of just a oneshot. Yay! Make sure you take a look at Chapter Two!)  
**

* * *

_The Visser Humilation Club_

_Chapter 1 - Dinner for Two  
_

My name is Visser Three.

Conqueror of all humans.

The only Yeerk to ever cease the body of an Andalite.

Pathetic creatures. The humans too.

Someday, planet earth will cower to the mightiness and supremacy of the Yeerk Empire!

Mavris 257 approached me, shaking uncontrollably in his Hork-Bajir host body. He was scared and so he should be.

"V-Visser, Sub-Visser Fifty-Four is here..." he stuttered.

((Then let her in, you fool!)) I bellowed.

"Ye-yes Visser…" Mavris replied, and ran to quickly open the door.

In stepped Sub-Visser Fifty-Four, previously known as Sub-Visser Fifty-One, and her army of Hork-Bajir.

((SUB-VISSER FIFTY-FOUR!)) I screeched, ((WHAT IS THE MEANING OF YOUR LATENESS!?))

"My apologies Visser. I… she… _we _were stuck in traffic."

(And so you should apologize you useless dapsen! You should feel privileged that I even let you come in my presence after you disgraced our people and let the Andalite Bandit escape!)

"It will not happen again Visser," she reassured me.

((So what is the news that you have come to deliver, Sub-Visser Fifty-Four?))

"Well, you see, Visser…"

"I do not have time for your excessive rambling! I am not a patient Yeerk, so get to the point before you become Sub-Visser Fifty-Five!"

Her army of Hork-Bajir stepped back. Hah, now that they see the all mighty Visser, they had no use for protecting the Sub-Visser!

"A head of a large company here on earth would like to meet you for having food at a large, indoor space surrounded by other groups of humans. We… my host… says humans call it a _date_."

((And why would I care what your host says?)) I demanded, ((Take her away!))

My own elite team of Hork-Bajir stepped forward and grabbed hold of her arms, ready to toss the pathetic excuse for a Yeerk off the premises.

"Wait!" she shouted, "The head of the company owns a large computer company! You could gain her trust then infest her once you have made inquiries from her on the date!"

I paused, considering this, and then laughed, ((You expect me to go through with your absurd plan after what happened with Matcom?))

I could see the fear in her eyes. She was trying to keep calm, but I still saw it. It made me happy.

"But Visser… if the head of the company is infected, not only would you gain access to the majority of primitive human computers, but you would also have links to Earth's army forces!"

Earths army forces? Hah, I had no use for them. They were weak, pathetic creatures, those humans. But then again, perhaps it would be wise to infest this head of company like Sub-Visser Fifty-Four was proposing. I could use there own defense forces against them! The foolish creatures would never see it coming!

"Fine, Sub-Visser Fifty-Four. But if this plan fails, you shall be decapitated!"

The Sub-Visser turned pale.

* * *

I booked the "date" with the human later that night. Iniss 226 had offered me a loan of him "suit." How dare him! There was no chance I would share a piece of artificial skin with that repulsive Yeerk! I told him that I was to give him one earth hour to find a "suit" for me, and it had to be the earth manufactured material known as cotton otherwise I would use him as bait for the Andalite Bandits in my next scheme.

I got out of a primitive, big machine used for transportation here on earth and headed for the door to the restaurant. A restaurant is a place where humans come to eat food and discuss pointless social matters. Tonight, that was exactly what I was going to be doing.

I walked through the door and looked around the room. The Sub-Visser had told me I had to look for the table with a yellow rose in a vase on it. I finally spotted the table, and the lady sitting at it. I could not see her face, as she was holding a piece of laminated plastic up to her face. Walking over to greet her, I said;

"Hello, you must be the head of a large company I am supposed to meet up with."

The lady looked up from the piece of laminated paper.

"VISSER THREE?!"

"VISSER ONE?!"

All the humans in the restaurant turned their weak eyes to stare at us. Maybe I was not suppose to shout in the complex…

"I have to… use the… what's that place humans go to urinate?"

This attracted even more stares from the humans.

"The little Andalite's room?" Supplied Visser One unhelpfully, a devious but somewhat calm grin on her face.

"Ah, yes. That it is." I quickly ran off to the little Andalite's room. It then occurred to me that Visser One had been lying to me, as humans could not possibly have something called the little Andalite' room when they were unaware of the existence of Andalites themselves.

Out of the pocket out of a piece of artificial clothing called trousers, I got out something called a cell phone. It is a primitive piece of technology which humans use to communicate with each other. My cell phone was the color pink. Angrily I dialed in the number of the Sub-Visser and waited.

_Ring Ring,_

_Ring Ring,_

_  
Ring Ring_

_Hello, it's me…I… us… Taylo__r here._

"YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF –"

_I'm not answering my phone at a moment, so please leave a message after the beep._

_Beeeeeeep._

I left a message for her, alright. Unfortunately, I can not repeat it for the use of very impolite Yeerk cuss words. I was going to behead that scum when I found her.

"AHHHH!" I roared angrily and stuffed the cell phone back in my pocket.

I marched back into the dining area, trying to ignore all the stares I was getting from the humans. Unfortunately, I was sick of ignoring them.

"STOP STARING AT ME, YOU PATHETIC HUMANS!" I roared, "Us Yeerks will enslave your planet and take away your freedom!"

The humans stopped staring at me and quietly went back to eating their meals.

I approached the table that Visser One was sitting at. She looked calm. That was not a good thing.

"Why are you here?!" I demanded.

"I was told that I was to meet with a head of a large company at this complex," she responded.

"But I was told that!" I shot back.

A human wearing a funny piece of human clothing that I believe is called a "Tuxedo" approached me.

"I am sorry sir," he said in a funny voice, "but if you can not be quiet, I'm afraid I would have to ask you to leave."

"Leave?! LEAVE!?" I fumed.

"Yes sir," he said, "leave."

I sat down in the chair with a huff.

"This is all your fault, Visser One! The Council of Thirteen shall hear of this!"

"And how is this my fault?" asked Visser One as she took a tip of a some sort of liquid through her mouth.

"Because…" I couldn't think of a reason. I was stuck for words, against the most scummiest Yeerks in the galaxy!

"If you ask me," she said calmly, "This is more Sub-Visser Fifty-Four's fault than mine."

I suppose the scum had a point.

"Where has the piece of laminated plastic you were observing only a few moments ago gone?" I asked.

Visser One rolled her eyes. The scum was using human expressions! Another thing to tell the Council of Thirteen about!

"It's called a menu. If you plan to invade earth you need to at least learn a bit of human culture. They took it away because I ordered our meals."

"OUR?!" I asked politely, "But am I not suppose order the meal myself?"

Visser One grinned slyly, "I saved you the trouble." I knew she was up to something… but what? That was what I was going to figure out.

After a few minutes of silence, Visser One spoke up.

"Sooooo.. how is the whole "Catching the Andalite Bandits" coming along?"

I grew furious, "That matter is none of your dapsen!" I snapped.

She smiled smugly, "Oh, but Visser Three, don't you know? Making pointless conversation over a table in a restaurant is a human pastime."

I was about to say something regarded as impolite when another man in a "tuxedo" approached the table holding two dishes.

"Mushrooms in pepper sauce for the _madam_, and _escargot_ for the _missuer._"

The human put the respective meals in front of us and trotted off.

I looked blankly down at my meal.

"What in the name of the Sulp Niaar pool is that?"

"Its escargot," replied Visser One, "It's a dish from a country called France on this planet."

I looked down at the meal again. It somehow looked familiar…

"You scum! You ordered me a meal which resembles the form of our brothers and sisters!"

Visser One ignored me. Those people of France would pay for eating the escargot, and so would that low-life Visser!

"The Council of Thirteen will hear of this!" I screeched.

"Oh, shut up and eat your escargot."

I gazed her my glare that could make a whole army of Hork-Bajir run away in terror. Again, I was ignored. Then I had an idea of sharing with her a human youth had called me the other day when my limo ran over his bike.

I turned out Visser One knew the meaning of this word, because she began making a high wheezing noise.

"Oh my god!" somebody yelled, "She's choking!"

Choking? Perfect! Visser One would choke to death and _I_ would become the Visser One! And best of all I would not be responsible for her death! It would be the mushrooms in a delicious and tangy pepper sauce with did her in!

The humans all gathered around her. One kept on hitting her with a hard force on the back. Maybe this was some method of trying to get her to regurgitate the mushroom. You could never be sure with humans.

Visser One made a large coughing noise and coughed out the mushroom

* * *

**Meanwhile, on the other side of the room…**

Tom and Taylor hid behind the giant chocolate fountain. Tom was busy taking pictures of Visser One and Three with a disposable camera while Taylor was occupied by spinning her prosthetic finger in the chocolate.

"May I just comment on how excellent you plan was to take photographs of the Vissers on a date then send it off to the Council of Thirteen, then claim they were behaving in an inappropriate manner, as dating is considered a romantic act on earth; thus allowing _us_ to take their places!" Tom stopped when he realized his fellow Yeerk wasn't listening.

"I wonder what is would taste like if I dip a corn chip in the chocolate," Taylor muttered to herself wistfully.

"Ri-ii-ii-ight…" Tom said, and continued to snap photos of the Vissers shouting at each other. All of a sudden…

"Hey, Visser One's choking!" Tom exclaimed. Taylor stopped staring into the bottomless fountain of chocolate and looked up. Sure enough, Visser One was busy choking on something and some guy in a tuxedo was slamming her back, attempting to make her cough it out.

"Must be the sauce…" Taylor mused quietly to herself then continued to swirl her prosthetic finger in the chocolate.

Suddenly, Visser One coughed out the mushroom. Somehow, the mushroom defied the laws of gravity. Maybe the Ellimist did it. Maybe it was Crayak. The mushroom flew all the way across the room and hit Tom in the eye.

"Ouch!" remarked Tom, as he accidentally let go of the disposable camera. The camera fell into the chocolate fountain.

"NOOOOOOO!" yelled Tom desperately. He stuck his arm down deep into the depths of the fountain, trying his hardest to recover the camera, "Curse you piece of primitive photographic technology! Curse you!"

Tom looked up very slowly and saw Taylor was holding the camera, which was drenched in chocolate. Taylor then did something nobody would have expected. She took a bite out of it.

If Tom was on IM, his facial expression would have been "0.0"

"I... she…" said Taylor.

"_We__ think it needs more sauce."_

_

* * *

  
_**A/n: And, by now you would know why it's rated T XD Anyway, review and give constructive criticism please! Excuse the awful randomness and crackfic-ness of it all. I really couldn't resist.**

**Oh yeah, interesting fact, did anybody know there is a video game franchise for Animorphs? I bought the Gameboy Color game a few weeks back. I cost me ten dollars AU, which is about 6 bucks US. It's really funny, because the graphics are pretty weird. The Hork-Bajir are blue and look like birds. Also, Tobias's sprite is the same size as everybody elses. Geez, big bird. The mall is so tiny, it only has a few shops. The game is sort of set out like Pokemon, for those who have played it. Instead of instantly touching and morphing the animals, you have to lower their HP (Hit points) to zero (hey wait, but wouldn't that kill them?) and then you automatically acquire the animal. You can only have six morphs at a time. Sigh. The game is actually ferociously hard though. I've found that the further you get in the came the harder it is to get an accurate hit against an animal, Hork-Bajir or Taxxons (The Taxxons actually look pretty accurate.) I haven't even made it to level 2. Overall, the game is worth buying for six bucks, regarding you have a gameboy color or gameboy advance to play it on, that is. Okay, well enough of my rambling. REVIEWWWWWWWW! XD**


	2. Chaos at the Clinic

**A/N: Behold! Chapter two! Credit goes to Skyflight Erek's Loyalty for this one, as she gave me the idea of introducing Erek into this oneshot-made-story. Also, a giant thanks to CharmedMilliE, BugzAttack, Skyflight Erek's Loyalty, Sapphirerubys, voodooqueen126 and Dugdino for review on the last chapter! Thank you so much ;D**

**Disclaimer: I bought Animorphs, but my pet cactus ate the receipt.**

_The Visser Humiliation Club_

_Chapter Two – Chaos at the Clinic_

The Yeerk Pool.

Screaming.

Crying.

Pleading.

I hated going to the Yeerk Pool. Technically, it wasn't necessary for the survival of _my _Yeerk. But if I wanted to keep my cover, I had to drop in once in a while. Ha, my cover. Sometimes I had to wonder if it was worth it, living among such foul slugs in the heads of other creatures. To hear the lies they tell humans, how The Sharing helps you make friends. How The Sharing is a fun, family thing.

How I had to speak those same lies.

My name is Erek, by the way.

I look human, and act human. I have been doing so for many thousands of years. However, all that you see when you look at me is a hologram. I am an android. A very weary android who was growing tired of visiting the Yeerk Pool in order to sustain my cover.

You see, there are some of my race, The Chee, who are tired of watching the human race get enslaved. These Chee spy on the Yeerks. They pretend to be controllers, they tap telephone lines and eavesdrop, attend the inner meetings of the Sharing. I am one of these Chee.

I decided to get it over and done with. And by over and done with, I mean getting my head stuffed under the lead-colored sludge of the Yeerk Pool. Just because I'm an android doesn't mean it is any less horrifying for me. I should say that I'm used to it. After all, I've survived much worse. But still it was terrible.

When my head was stuffed under the sludge, I shut off the view from my eyes. I didn't need to see those filthy parasites. Besides, I wasn't in a really good mood today. Funny huh? How an android can actually have a mood.

I lifted my head out the sludge and went to lean against the wall near the cages that the involuntary hosts were kept in. After being spat on by all these humans, however, I decided it mightn't be a good idea and headed over towards the voluntary lounge.

The voluntary lounge, as you might of guessed, is where the voluntary hosts hang out. The hosts that actually choose to be infested by a Yeerk. Betraying their own race. I often wondered how one could do such a thing.

I walked into the voluntary lounge and took a seat on the sofa near the pool table. The room was packed with both infested and non-infested humans. Sometimes the Yeerks would come here to hang out before they went for a swim in the Yeerk Pool. I found this slightly weird. Wouldn't they want to get into the pool as soon as they could? Oh well, you shouldn't question life. Most of the controllers in here were probably just nut-cases.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw two controllers in the corner of the room talking quietly to themselves. Now it wasn't that I _often _eavesdropped, but what they were saying could have been important in the Animorphs' fight against the Yeerks. Normal people wouldn't have been able to her their talking, but I wasn't exactly normal. I had hearing four times as good as any human.

"...and what did you do? You took a bite out of the blasted camera!"

"I... we thought it tasted quiet delicious. Even better than that of the all mighty Kandrona."

Remember the nut-cases I mentioned earlier?

"Don't talk such nonsense, Sub-Visser Fifty-Four. We should be more focused on coming up with a plan on how to bring down the Visser One and Three instead of talking about... eating a primitive human photography devices."

By now I had figured out who these two nut jobs were. The one with the most sanity was the Yeerk inside of Jake's brother, Tom. I wasn't entirely sure of the Yeerk's name, as frankly couldn't be bothered to find out. Tom was one of Visser Three's most loyalist Yeerks. Why he would want to take down Visser Three and One was beyond me. Though he did seem a bit... power-hungry.

The other one was Sub-Visser Fifty-Four, formerly Sub-Visser Fifty-One. She was one of Visser Three's best torturers. From what I had heard, she was the Sub-Visser who had tortured one of the supposed Andalite Bandits (who was really Tobias) but alas let him escape, therefor losing two ranks. Many said she was insane and honestly, I believed them.

Their idea was interesting though. And wouldn't brining down the Vissers help the Animorphs' fight against the Yeerks invasion? The more I though about it, the more I liked the idea. Get rid of the Vissers, it was so simple. And I could help them...

I sighed. I had forgot. I couldn't truly help them without violating my non-violence programming. But maybe... maybe there was a way around it. Perhaps there was a way I could help bring them down without hurting anybody in the process and without blowing my cover.

"... a delicious human photography device."

I approached the two controllers and stood there, waiting until they acknowledged my presence.

Tom turned towards me and raised an eyebrow, "can I help you?"

"I believe you can," I replied, before lowering my voice and saying, "you see, I couldn't happen to overhear that you are planning to bring down the Vissers."

Tom's eyes widened, but he quickly masked his face with a rather innocent look, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I smirked, "Oh, come on. Besides, I could maybe be of assistance. After all... you are not the only ones who want to bring them down."

Tom was about to say something, but Taylor cut him off.

"We should let him join our club. Besides, he's cute."

I suppressed a shudder.

"Club!?" demanded Tom, "You think this whole thing is just a club?"

"Oh! Club! Me want to join! Join join join!"

We turned around to see a rather tall Hork-Bajir standing there. The grin on his face wasn't exactly a "I'm going to expose you" grin but rather a silly, happy grin. Unusual.

"Uh, we would. But this is an exclusive club," said Tom.

I thought I saw Taylor smirk.

"Oh! Please let join! Join and I obey you. I loyal servant. Loyal servant!"

Tom sighed, "Fine. Whatever."

"Yay!" said Taylor happily, "We can call ourselves the Visser Humiliation Club!"

"Keep your voice down!" Tom hissed, but then paused, "The what?!"

Taylor grinned madly, "Let's refer to each other as our host's name."

Tom rolled his eyes, like he had seen this all before. To be honest, I sort of felt sorry for him.

"You may call me... us Taylor," said Taylor.

"Fine. I'm Tom."

"Erek."

We all turned towards the Hork-Bajir who still had that happy grin on it's face.

"I Gafrash. Because I make Andalite Bandit scream "Gafrash! Gafrash!"

And it was then that Tom and I realized that Taylor wasn't the only nut-case.

* * *

We held a meeting in a more secure place in order to figure out how we were going to humiliate the Vissers. Taylor offered to have it at her house, but obvious reasons Tom and I declined. And Gafrash... he didn't exactly have a home. I didn't feel comfortable about having three controllers in my house, so I told them that my house had been sprayed with a strong type of bug spray, and that it would be unsafe for our hosts if we held the meeting there.

That left Tom's house.

And Jakes.

Jake wasn't home at the time, of course. I don't think it was one of the risks Tom was willing to take. To be honest, I didn't really want Jake finding out about our "club." At least not yet.

We had some trouble getting Gafrash in. We ended up disguising him as a tree. Don't ask.

Tom had somehow discovered that both the Visser One and Two attended the same luxury-clinic-bathouse-and-salon thing. I informed the others that I knew somebody who was good at hacking (which was really me, of course) and could "magically" make sure both Vissers arrived at the bath-house thing on the same day.

We agreed and decided to meet at the abandoned warehouse around the corner from the clinic the the next day at 9:00 am sharp.

Now, one of the mistakes that Tom, Gafrash and I had made during our so called "club meeting" the following day was not taking Taylor seriously. She had brought up the topic of disguises, and said she would gladly supply them. I just laughed it off, Tom seemed disturbed but also laughed it off and Gafrash's IQ was probably too low for him to even comprehend what was going on. But one thing was for sure, we were all going to take her seriously now.

"In the name of the Madra moon! I will _not _wear that!" Tom screeched with declination as Taylor presented Tom with his "disguise."

"Oh, come on," Taylor replied, "This uniform is what all staff wear at the bathhouse."

"All female staff maybe..." muttered Tom.

"Besides," Taylor said, ignoring Tom's muttering, "Gafrash is going to be wearing the same uniform and he seems perfectly happy with it."

"Pretty uniform pretty pink! So pretty uniform! Pretty pink! Pretty pink dress pretty!" cooed Gafrash as

he danced around happily with the grace of a very ungraceful ballet dancer.

Tom looked very angry, "This is so unfair!" he exclaimed, "How come Erek gets one of the _normal _uniforms that the male staff are _supposed _to wear?"

Taylor grinned a slightly looking insane grin which sort of scared me.

"Because Erek is just sooooooooo cute!" she said and pinched my cheek with her prosthetic fingers. By now I was even more disturbed. I took the effort to remove Taylor's prosthetic fingers from my cheek, gently and non-violently may I add, and took a few steps to the side away from Taylor; who by now I was entirely sure was a complete nut-case. And I thought the Animorphs were too weird to hang out with.

* * *

We sneaked past the lady at the reception with no problem. The lady was too busy filing her nails to notice Taylor the insane, giggling weirdo, Tom, who was cross dressed, Gafrash, a Hork-Bajir in a pink uniform dress, and me. The only normal looking one. The only one who clearly was capable of thinking like a normal human being. And I'm not even human for crying out loud.

When we were past the the reception lady and down the hallway Tom whispered, "Okay. The Visser's will be in the rooms we discussed earlier. So I think we should..."

Tom was interrupted by Taylor who whispered, "Oh! We should split into teams!"

"Yay! Team good!" said Gafrash a lot louder than we would have liked. Tom, Taylor and I made a "Shhhhh!" sound.

Tom rolled his eyes and looked somewhat pained, "Fine, whatever."

"I want to be with Erek!" Taylor said happily.

I slowly and very cautiously back away, "Uh... maybe I should go with Gafrash instead. Hork-Bajir aren't the brightest bulbs in the closet. He might need some help."

Taylor looked disappointed but then cheered up, "Yay! Look's like its you and me, Tommy!"

"Please don't call me that..." muttered Tom. By the way he said it you could tell he had well and truly given up on any hope there was for Taylor to act normally today.

The reason I chose Gafrash was rather simply. For one, in something went wrong (eg. My holograph playing up) then Gafrash would probably not expect much. Even with a Yeerk inside their heads, the Hork-Bajir still aren't the smartest creatures to have ever roamed the galaxy. The other reason was that Taylor scared me.

Gafrash and I headed for the room in which Visser One was unknowingly awaiting us. Once outside the door to the room, I said to Gafrash, "It might be best to put on the surgical masks Taylor gave us. We don't exactly want the Visser seeing our faces then hunting us down later."

"Pretty surgical mask!" said Gafrash happily. He tried to put on the mask, but couldn't get it past is forehead blade to I had to help him. One we were ready, we entered.

Visser One was sitting in a rather relaxed position on a fine leather recliner chair. Behind her, there was bench with scissors and other utensils which were probably used for giving one a hair cut. Her feet were sitting on a stool, as if she was waiting for them to be manicure.

Visser One turned her head towards us. "Netri Nine-Five-Seven and Kemprit Three-Oh-Eight! What took you so long! I have been left waiting for ten minutes!"

According to Tom, the Yeerks which normally cut Visser One's hair and give her a pedicure are Netri and Kemprit. Tom said he had taken care of them and that we shouldn't worry.

**Meanwhile, at an abandoned building a few blocks away...**

Poor, unlucky Kemprit and Netri sit tied to a pole.

"I knew we shouldn't have fallen for that flying bowl of oatmeal," said Kemprit.

**Back at the Clinic...**

"Our apologies Visser," I said courteously, "We were in a... erh... traffic jam."

Visser One sighed and rolled her eyes, "Very well." She then looked at us suspiciously, "Please, tell me, why is it that your hosts look different?"

I panicked. I hadn't though about that. Of course, since we weren't _really_ Kemprit and Netri, we wouldn't look like them. I panicked and said, "Erh... that's because we're..."

I paused in mid sentence and Visser One continued to look at me suspiciously. That or looking at me like I was a total idiot. "Go on."

"We're doing a host swap!" I said, "Yes! That's it! It's the fad among our people right now. I believe the founder got most of their influences from the popular human TV show, "Wife Swap.""

Visser One sighed, "Yes, yes, whatever. Now please begin on my haircut. The usual. The other may do the pedicure. Oh, and get me my eye mask!"

I got the eye mask and gently placed it over Visser One's face. Gafrash and I stood there as if we had no idea what we were doing.

"Well...? Begin!" Visser One snapped.

I handed Gafrash the nail file. Gafrash looked confused and asked, "What sharp thing?"

I literally slapped my forehead with my hand, "Just stall. Use it on her toenails."

Picking up the scissors, I stared at Visser One's hair. The point of this _was _to bring her down, and maybe if she had a bad appearance then her people would despise her or something. Worth a shot. But then again, after this I would probably feel somewhat disappointed after this. I was, after all, once Catherine the Great's hairdresser and the way I was going to cut Visser One's hair was certainly not going to be to the best of my ability.

But anyway, I began cutting away at her hair, trying to make it look as screwy as possible. Not ten seconds after I began cutting, Visser One yelled a word I'm not going to repeat. And though I would hate to brag, but I know way worse words than what she said, plus I can say it in Mesopotamian.

"What in the name of the Kandrona are you doing!" she shouted, "you just stabbed my host's toe!"

Gafrash looked a bit taken back, if that is even possible. "Me not know sharp thing hurt! Hurt bad!" said Gafrash desperately.

"Go stand in the corner! I shall deal with you after my haircut!" scolded Visser One angrily.

Fifteen minutes later, I had almost finished the Visser's haircut, I heard a peculiar sound. Visser One must of heard it too, because she commanded, "That sound it annoying me! Find the source and stop it."

I stared over to the corner to see the source of the sound. Gafrash was stripping bark off the potted, small tree in the corner of the room. I rolled my holographic eyes.

"Certainly. Excuse me for a moment, Visser."

I walked over to Gafrash and hissed, "What are you doing?!"

He replied, "Strip bark fun. Bark good. Taste bark!" he generously held out a handful for me. Oh gee, I had already had breakfast.

A thought then occurred to me, "are you even a controller?" I whispered. It was a reasonable question. Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that a Yeerk would never allow itself to get that caught up in the traits of it's host.

"Controller bad. Yeerk hurt Gafrash. Gafrash kill Yeerk. Free or dead! Free or dead!" Gafrash started chanting.

"What is going on here?!" demanded Visser One demanded. I saw her hands reach for her eye mask and...

"RUN!" I shouted.

**During all of this, Tom and Taylor were having their own fun adventure on the other side of the clinic... (A/N: From overall view.)**

Although Taylor was most likely insane and Tom was a power-hungry Yeerk, they were not stupid. Like Erek, they both thought it was wise if they wore surgical masked, just incase Visser Three decided to issue a warrant for their heads. Tom was quiet angry, actually. He had no idea why he got stuck with Visser Three while Erek and Gafrash got it off easy by going for Visser One. He also wondered why he got stuck with Taylor.

Taylor was giggling madly to herself as they waited outside the room which Visser Three would be waiting in.

"Are you going to knock?" Tom asked after Taylor had finished her five-minute-straight giggling spree.

"No. Are you?"

Tom sighed to himself and slowly but nervously knocked on the door.

(COME IN PATHETIC EXCUSES FOR YEERKS!)

Both Taylor and Tom jumped at the sound of Visser Three's thought speech. Neither had expected him to be in his Andalite form. Tom slowly opened the door and him and Taylor both gasped in astonishment. Visser Three was...

In a hot tub!  
The two unsuspecting controller's jaws dropped open.

(DID YOU NOT HERE ME, SCUM!?) Visser Three bellowed, before calming down, (I am not a patiently Yeerk. Come in!) And believe me, he did not say the "Come in" part welcomely.

Nervous and both shaking, Tom and Taylor entered the room and closed the door behind them.)

(Well? Are you two sad excuses for Yeerks going to stand there? Or are you going to give me a sponge bath?!")

"A WHAT!?" Tom exploded.

Taylor rolled her eyes. Tom was just soooooo insane, he couldn't even keep his comments to himself.

(Do not make me repeat myself! Now sponge bath me!)

Tom muttered a very, very bad word under his breath and angrily took a sponge and began to, well, sponge bath the Visser. Let's just say this experience was going to scar both Tom and his Yeerk for life.

Taylor stood there, very unhelpfully.

"Are you going to help or not?!" Tom snapped at Taylor.

Taylor was brought out of her daydream. "Oh right." She then took something from the back pocket of her uniform. It was a vile, with a liquid in it. "If I may suggest Visser," she said, "if you try some "bubble bath." I have been told it is quiet relaxing." She gestured to the vile. It amazed Tom sometimes how Taylor always had the right things at the right time.

(Oh, why not? I'm in a good mood today. In fact, I'm in such a good mood, that if I saw the dreaded Andalite Bandits I would be nice and infest them instead of frying them with my beloved dracom beam.)

With this, Taylor put the whole bottle of liquid in the bath. Taylor then shot a "let's go" eye signal to Tom, who said, "If you excuse me Visser, I will find a bigger, and more clean sponge." The pair then made a run for it.

* * *

_(Erek's POV) _

It was the next day, and the Animorphs requested that I should infiltrate a meeting Visser One, Visser Three, and high-ranking controllers would be attending, along with the Council of Thirteen, who would attend over a giant computer screen. I had no idea what it was about and how the Animorphs found out about it (usually the Chee was the ones who normally told them about this stuff.) but they assured me it was important. The reason they couldn't go is they believed it to be "too risky" because of all the Gleet biofilters and the security around the site of the meeting. Besides, it would be a piece of cake for me to override any of these systems and get in.

I sat among most of the high-ranking controllers. I wasn't in the holograph I normally used, as I was in a holograph of one of the top Yeerks that's host had fallen ill before the meeting and had decided not to attend. From the little pieces of information I had heard from the whispering and gossiping of the high-ranking controllers siting all around me, this meeting involved one of the two Vissers' latest bickers.

I stared over at Visser One. I had done a mighty damn good job on her hair, if I do say so myself. The right hand side of her head was bold, and the other side was messily cut. I smiled with pride to myself.

"Behold, the Council of Thirteen!" said an important-looking controller up the front of the room, who was standing right of the computer screen. An image of the screen flickered on, and thirteen hooded figures appeared. Hmm, so this is what the mysterious Council of Thirteen looked like. The room became dead silent.

"Visser One and Visser Three, arise," said one of the mysterious hooded figures, "Visser Three, you may go first. _Now would you care to explain why the fur of your host body is pink?"_

**A/N: I couldn't resist the urge of making V3 pink. I know, completely weird of me ;D I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you have any ideas for the next one, please feel free to share. I'll be sure to give you credit. Read and review please! XD**


	3. Decorating the Club House

**A/N: Short author's note, because I'm tired and want to sleep. Please excuse any typos/grammatical errors/spelling errors in this. My spelling isn't perfect ;D Oh, and a warning: this chapter is rather random.**

**Disclaimer:**** I own Animorphs like my grammar is perfect.**

**Gafrash is copyright of me. Bwahahah!**

**If I owned McDonald's, then I would be the owner of Fanfiction by now. **

**If I owned Walmart, then I would change the name to AniMart.**

_The Visser Humiliation Club_

_Chapter 3 – Decorating the Club House_

My name is Erek.

It was a few days after the Council of Thirteen meeting and I was down in the Yeerk pool voluntary lounge, this time hoping to hear some news about Visser Three's rumored new dangerous plan to expose the so-called "Andalite Bandits."

However, I was not so lucky as I ended up encountering the same bunch of lunatics I did only just a week ago. Luck never seemed to be on my side these days.

"Hey Erek! Over here!" called out Tom, who was sitting with the rest of our little "club" on the other side of the lounge. Tom was the first member of our club. It was funny, as I had always thought he was loyal to Visser Three. But once you hang around him for a while, it doesn't take long to figure out how controlling and power-hungry he is.

Next there was Taylor. Taylor is considered the "founder" of the Visser Humilation Club. Or at least she thinks so anyway. She made up the name, after all. But don't let her creativity fool you. She can be very, very scary. For one, she was one of Visser Three's top torturers. She was the one who tortured Tobias. That in itself would explain why she is scary. Second, there is a rumor going around that the Yeerk has some split personality disorder, explaining why the Yeerk prefers to be called Taylor. Third, Taylor enjoys pinching my cheek and telling me how cute I am. Now _that_ is what you call scary.

The last member of our club is Gafrash the Hork-bajir. What can I tell you about Gafrash? Well, he has a really low IQ, thats for sure. But other than that, there isn't much else known about Gafrash. He is really a complete mystery to all of us.

I tried hiding behind a potted plant. My attempts failed.

"Erek, we can see you behind that tree," Tom pointed out.

"Me no see Erek? Where go Erek? Erek no here? Yeerk take Erek? FREE OR DEAD! FREE OR DEAD!"

Tom slapped a hand over Gafrash's mouth. Taylor giggled to herself.

"Shut up you tree-eater!"

I used this time to make a dash for it, but was stopped by Taylors words.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Turning around slowly, I noticed Taylor was wielding a dracom beam, which was directed at me. Where did she get that dracom beam from? I remember how there was a "no dracom beams" sign on the door to the lounge. Then it hit me. Not the dracom beam. I mean the answer. Of course, Taylor was Sub-Visser. Obviously she would get special privileges.

I sighed to myself and walked over and sat down with the group. Taylor pinched my holographic cheek. Oh man, not again.

"You're so cute when you're trying to run away!"

I thought I heard Tom make a snorting noise. Perhaps he was snorting with jealousy. You could never be sure. That Yeerk could get jealous easily.

"So now that we are all here," Tom said impatiently, "are you going to explain _why _we are all here?"

"Oh yes, right!" said Taylor, "Well, since that the our club has been officially open for a while now..."

"Yeah, after only one outing," muttered Tom, mainly to himself.

"I think it's about time we create a clubhouse!"

"What a stupid idea!" Tom exclaimed angrily, "you called us all down here for _that_?"

Taylor leveled her dracom beam at Tom. Tom let out a scared gulp. Taylor smirked.

"I mean... erh..." Tom said, "It's just that we don't even have a place where we can build this clubhouse." After that sentence he then muttered under his breath something about Taylor which wasn't polite. Apparently Taylor didn't hear though.

"That won't be a problem," Taylor said, grinning madly, "because the clubhouse is going to be in _your _basement."

"No!" Tom shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly. Everyone in the voluntary lounge stared at him.

"I mean, no," Tom said, in a lower voice this time, "not my basement. For one, the family of my host are all non-infested It would be too risky. Besides, the basement is where I keep my prized collection of -"

I raised a holographic eyebrow, "Prized collection of what?"

"Nothing..." he muttered quietly.

Taylor then directed her gaze towards me and smirked evily. Uh oh.

"Can it be in _your _house then?" she asked.

I played the scenario in my head. All one of the other members had to do was to accidentally lean on the button to the drop-shaft, and the Chee would be dead meat.

"Well, it _would _be fine. But it just so happens that it is stuffed floor to ceiling with boxes. It would take weeks to clean it out."

"What about you, Gafrash?" asked Taylor.

"Um, hello? The guy lives in a tree!" pointed out Tom.

Taylor took no acknowledgment of Tom, and waited politely for Gafrash to answer.

"Gafrash live in earth tree. Like _chalak_ tree of home planet. No big," said Gafrash. He then sighed with exasperation, as if the sentence was too long and tiring. Heck, it probably was. He was a Hork-bajir, after all.

"Okay fine. The clubhouse will be in _my_ basement then," said Taylor. I grinned. The secret of the Chee was safe for another day. Tom, however, looked horrified. I shot him a questioning glance. He then returned the glance by putting his own hands around his neck and pretending to choke.

Taylor saw Tom pretending to choke, and shot him a venomous glare. Tom stopped pretending to choke.

Taylor then gave us her address. Although she had to repeat herself several times for Gafrash, as he continued to forgetting.

"So 9:00 am at 11 Tortionnaire Drive. Everybody got it?" Taylor asked.

"How ironic," I whispered to Tom, "Tortionnaire is French for Torturer."

Tom raised an eyebrow skeptically, "You speak French?"

Yes, as well as English, German, Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Russian, Indian, Korean, Spanish, Swedish, Norwegian, Portuguese, Latin, Egyptian and Mesopotamian.

"Erh, no. I was guessing."

Taylor leveled her dracom beam to us and and we snapped to her attention.

"That's better," she said sweetly, "You two should really be more like Gafrash. He listens perfectly."

I looked over at Gafrash. He was standing there, like some child who was trying to earn himself a reward for being a good pupil.

"Here's a cookie," Taylor said, and threw Gafrash a cookie which seemed to come out of nowhere. Its weird how she always does that. Gafrash miraculously managed to catch the cookie, and then for some unknown reason stuck the cookie through the forehead blade. He grinned a Hork-bajir grin.

"I'm busy tomorrow," Tom said. Big mistake. Taylor fired a blast on the low setting of her dracom beam, which narrowly missed Tom's face. A loud shriek was heard from the voluntary controllers.

"What was that, Tommy?"

"I'm available!" exclaimed Tom.

"I thought so."

* * *

We all arrived at Taylor's house at roughly the same time. Gafrash was dressed in the tree costumed he had used only a matter of days ago, as we where scared somebody would see him. You wouldn't want some sort of "lawn mower of death" to be wondering around suburbia.

Inside Taylor's house was fairly normal. If by normal you mean all pink, frilly, and girly that is. Tom made a gagging noise as soon as we entered.

"Pretty pink! Gafrash like pink!" Gafrash cooed to himself happily, "Mommy's home pretty pink!"

Tom raised an eyebrow at Gafrash, "Mommy?"

"Taylor Gafrash's Mommy. Erek Gafrash's Daddy."

I cautiously backed away a few steps.

What was wrong with this Hork-bajir?

"Then what am I?" Tom asked curiously.

"Tom nobody. Because Gafrash no like Tom. Nobody like Tom."

At first I thought I saw a heart-broken expression on Tom's face, but then I saw as it turned into anger and frustration.

"You stupider-than-a-Gedd, lousy tree eater!" Tom snapped, and picked up a lampshade, trying to whack Gafrash with it. I held out my hands, indication for them both to stop. For once, they listened.

"Violence never solved anything," I preached, matter-of-factly.

Tom grunted with frustration and angrily put down the lamp into it's respective position.

"Lets go down and see my basement!" Taylor said happily, "I think you're really going to like it."

We liked it alright.

For in Taylor's basement was loads upon loads of torture devices. These included everything from whips to the electric chair. And obedience collars. Shiver.

"Nice place you have here," I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Why thank you. I believe I did quiet a good job myself."

"This place doesn't even have a sofa," complained Tom, and he went to lean against the wall.

Taylor grinned a scary grin, "But it will soon, and its also going to have a hot-tub, a wide-screened TV and a pinball machine.

"Yay! Gafrash say pinball good!"

"And how are you going to pay for all this?" Tom asked, "We aren't on the Yeerk home world, where there is plenty of kandronal fluid to splash around."

Taylor walked over to the opposite side of the room, and dug through a chest of drawers. After digging around for about half a minute, she pulled out a shiny plastic card. A credit card.

"Taylor, I hate to burst your bubble," I began, "but you _have _to pay back what you spend on credit cards."

"Yes, I know," she replied simply, "unless that credit card was Visser Three's super unlimited credit card."

Our jaws dropped. Sure enough, imprinted on the shiny credit card was the name "Visser Three."

"No way!" exclaimed Tom, "how did you manage to get a hold of _that_!?"

Taylor put her index finger to her lips, "secret," she said.

Tom rolled his eyes.

"Gather around club members!" Taylor called.

"We are already..." muttered Tom.

Taylor once again ignored him, "For we are about to go on our very first club excursion!"

A club excursion, huh? This would be interesting...

"Where to?" I asked curiously.

"Walmart!" replied Taylor happily.

"Yay Walmart! Walmart good. Gafrash eat Walmart! Like Walmart."

Taylor looked sympathetically at Gafrash, "Sorry Gafrash," she said, "but you can't go on this one. It would cause panic among human society."

I set my holograph to grin, "at least we'd be able to get a parking spots with Gafrash without a problem."

"Haha Gafrash!" Tom said mockingly, "Looks like your "Mommy" doesn't _want _you to come along."

"Meh," said Gafrash and shrugged.

Tom and I exchanged a "What...?!" glance.

The more we thought we knew Gafrash, the more he became a total mystery to us.

"So it's all settled then!" Taylor announced, "Gafrash, if you get bored, there is a painting easel in the corner. Paint yourself a picture."

Why would Taylor have a painting easel?

"Yay! Gafrash paint pretty pink picture," cooed Gafrash, and he skipped off to the easel.

Taylor turned to Tom and I. "Come on! I'll drive us. You'll like my car. It is programmed with sophisticated Yeerk technology, so when you plug the keys in the ignition a little electronic voice makes death-threats at you. Plus its pink!"

Oh, goody.

&&&

It took about five minutes to arrive at the nearest Walmart. When Taylor said that when you put the keys in the ignition the car made death-threats, she wasn't kidding. In fact, it made them for five minutes straight.

"You're as dead as a turkey on Thanksgiving!"

"I'll find you and get you when you're sleeping!" chirped the electronic voice, over and over again.

Tom was the first to snap, "In the name of the Kandrona! Would someone shut that thing up!"

The noise didn't actually concern me that much. Besides, I could just shut off my hearing at any time. It was Tom's reaction that was why I didn't.

We came to a red light and Taylor shrugged. "Sorry, its automatic. Besides, I find it soothing."

Tom slammed his head hard on the dashboard, thus accidentally activating the airbags.

"AHHH! DAPSEN!"

We pulled into the car park of Walmart and everyone got out of the car.

"Well," said Tom angrily, "that was a trip on a primitive earth transportation unit that I would rather forget."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," I claimed, just to tick Tom off.

"NOT THAT BAD?!" He demanded, "No normal Yeerk, let alone a primitave, disgusting human would

be able to survive the cruel and unusual torture of Taylor's primitive transportation unit." He narrowed his eyes, "Unless, of course, you weren't human or Yeerk..."

Uh oh...

"Oh Tommy!" Taylor said happily, as she gave Tom a playful slap on the back. Tom cringed in pain. "Of course Erek's a human with one of our people inside his head. What do you think he is? Some alien robot or something?"

Well, now that you mention it...

"Taylor's right," I said, "of course I'm not some... alien robot. Don't be so absurd!"

"Sheesh! Okay! I'm sorry!"

It was then that the three us proceeded into Walmart in order to do shopping for our clubhouse. By halfway through the shopping trip, we managed to spend two thousand bucks. Some of it on rather pointless items, including a jumbo bag of marshmallows, a Venus fly trap plant, action figures of humans turning into animals (I had bought those. Thought I might give them to the Animorphs as a present) and a toothbrush. Okay, so maybe the toothbrush wasn't so pointless. Gafrash did, after all, have bad breath.

By halfway through the shopping test, Tom and I were very, very bored. Taylor, on the other hand, was running around like a kid in a candy store, squealing with delight at every object she passed by.

"I'm bored," complained Tom.

"Yeah," I agreed, "once you get over the fact of having a unlimited credit card, life seems rather dull."

"Want to go to McDonalds across the road? Taylor might me awhile."

"Sure, why not?"

So Tom and I decided to ditch Taylor in order to get our hands on a McCheese burger. However, we walked across the car park of Walmart only to find very familiar people arguing. We quickly ran behind a nearby Jeep.

"Is that Visser One and Visser Three?" Tom whispered to me.

I quickly peaked around the side of the Jeep, "Yup. Looks that way." Confirming that it was indeed the Vissers, we decided to eavesdrop.

"I have no time for your useless ramblings, Visser One."

"Oh, I think you'll be interested in what I have to say. You see, I know that you're missing that unlimited credit card of yours."

"And what is your point, you low life dapsen?" Visser Three asked politely.

"What do you think would happen if the Council of Thirteen were somehow "informed" about this matter?"

"You wouldn't!"

"I think they would be rather angry to find out that their so-called loyal Visser had lost the fifth unlimited Earth credit card they had issued him with this year."

"You piece of filth!" Spat Visser Three, "You dare blackmail me?"

"But then again, if you do what I say, then they'll never have to know."

There was a long silence.

"What do I have to do?"

"Oh, nothing much," said Visser One reassuringly, "I just want to see if you are capable of _real _hard work. Therefor, I would like you to get an Earth job and be able to keep it without being fired for one straight whole Earth week."

"I will never do such a thing!" Visser Three claimed.

"Oh well. Looks like the Council of Thirteen will be.... "accidentally" informed of this incident."

There was another long silence. But I could of sworn I heard Visser Three mutter something. Probably Yeerk swear words.

"Where is it you would like me to place in this _real _hard work that you are referring to, scum?"

"It is at a popular restaurant establishment name McDonalds. I would like you to endure this hard work at the one across the road."

"Hear that?" Tom whispered to me. Well, considering I could hear four times better than a human...

"We have a chance to humiliate Visser Three!" he whispered with excitement.

"By what? Screwing up his job interview?"

"No, by screwing up his job interview!"

"Thats what I just said."

"No you didn't. It was _my_ idea after all."

I rolled my holographic eyes. There was no use arguing with Tom. He was, after all, a power-hungry Yeerk. It was not like he would actually listen to me.

We waited in the same spot for a few minutes, until we were certain that Visser One and Visser Three had left the car park. We then proceeded over to McDonald's, where we planned to humiliate Visser Three. It was decided that Taylor wouldn't be told about this. The last thing we needed was her to to ruin our chances. Tom had told me about the time Taylor ate his disposable camera. Needless to say, Tom really didn't want that happening again.

Hmm, eating a disposable camera... I didn't even know that was possible.

Anyway...

Heading over to McDonald's, we soon spotted Visser Three (in human morph, of course,) sitting at a table with what appeared to be the manager. How he had managed to get there that fast, I have no idea. Have you ever noticed that many things in our universe seem to be rather illogical? But I'm an alien android, so who am I to talk?

Tom and I took a seat at a nearby booth, which was blocked off from view from where the Visser was seeing, but still in hearing range.

"Okay," I heard the manager say, "So let's look over your resume...." he then began to read Visser Three's resume....

**Name: Visser Three/Esplin/Ruler of Earth**

**Sex: Why would I want to engage in the human act of mating?**

**Age: How am I supposed to know, pitiful human? Do you think I familiar with these "earth years?"**

**Previous Work Experience: Conquering Earth and many other pathetic planets, and ruling the Yeerk empire. **

**Preferred Days: Anything that does not interfere with the precious time I put aside each week that I use to hunt down and infest the Andalite bandits. Or the time of my weekly massage.**

**Why should we hire you: Becausi**

"That is supposed to be an "e," you worthless creature!" roared Visser Three, "What is it with you species and bad eye sight?"

"With all due respect sir," replied the manager, "but by my opinion, this resume looks like a worm has break danced on it. The writing is absolutely atrocious!"

"And why would I, the all might Visser Three, care?"

The manager just sighed and continued reading.

**Because I am the future ruler of Earth! You must start obeying me sooner of later! Also, I am a people person.**

"Bull..." I heard Tom mutter under his breath.

**Contact details: Just look for my extravagant Blade Ship in the atmosphere, or just simply contact me using a Z-Space transmitter.**

"Um..." the manager stuttered, "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

"What do you mean, worthless human?"

"I mean, you do realize you're in McDonald's, right? The Conspiracy Theory/Star Trek Fan club is next door."

"AGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" exploded Visser Three with rage. The next thing I knew, I heard a splash noise. Curiously, I looked around the side of the booth. Visser Three had thrown Coke all over the manager.

"How dare you!" scolded the manager, "SECURITY!"

A long and unnerving silence followed in the restaurant. I could have sworn I heard a random cricket chirping the background, too.

"We don't have security, do we?" The manager asked, mainly to himself.

During all of this, Tom was happily snapping away with a disposable camera. He must have been hiding it in one of the pockets in his cargo shorts.

At that moment, Visser One walked into the complex.

"Hello Esplin. I was just checking on how you were -" she stopped herself, "What is going on?"

"This nut case threw Coke all over me!" complained the manager.

"Us Yeerks shall conquer your puny race! Face McNuggets of doom!" exclaimed Visser Three, and he started throwing some random customer's McNuggets at the manager.

The manager was apparently no more mature, and started hurling back McChicken burgers and empty cups. Just two minutes later, this incident had evolved into a massive food fight, which pretty much included everyone in the store. Visser Onemust have somehow managed to escape out a the back entrance, as she was nowhere to be seen.

Tom and I thus began the long and dangerous process of crawling from our booth to the front door without getting hit by food.

All of a sudden, a flying happy meal box flew by, knocking Tom's camera out of his hands and skidding across the floor.

"NOOOO!" exclaimed Tom. He quickly turned around on his knees.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" exclaimed Tom even louder, when somebody stepped on his beloved camera, thus breaking it. "EXPOSIE JUNIOR!"

"Oh, good grief Tom. You named it?"

A meat patties flew by, missing where I was by inches.

"Tom! We have to go!" I reminded him urgently.

"Not without Exposie Junior!"

"TOM!!!" I shouted, "It's a blasted camera! Now can we please get a move on, before my face becomes one with a bun?"

It took me another whole minute until I convinced Tom to leave "Exposie Junior" behind. But we got out. Eventually.

* * *

"So boys, did you have fun shopping today? Because I did! Yay!" said Taylor happily.

It was not much later, and we have arrived back at Taylor's house. Taylor didn't have any of her furniture actually with her, as she had chosen to have it delivered.

"Uh... yes. We did...." I said carefully.

Tom just sniffled over the loss of yet another camera.

We then headed down to the basement. Gafrash was in the corner, painting. Still.

"Me made pretty picture! Me done pretty picture!" cooed Gafrash happily. He held up the picture for everyone to see.

Our mouths dropped open.

"Is that... no way. That's the Mona Lisa!" I said. I then laughed to myself, "Okay guys, who's idea of this is a joke?"

Nobody answered.

**A/N: CLIFFIE! So, what do you think? Please let me know! Review, please ;D Both compliment and constructed criticism is greatly appreciated! **


	4. Into the Wilderness

**A/N: First of all, thank everyone for reviewing, no matter what chapter it was on. I'm actually extremely overwhelmed by how much reviews I'm getting on this story. I never thought I would even reach the 20th mark by the third chapter. So a giant thanks, everyone ;D Also, I'm sorry that I didn't get around to replying to everyone's reviews. I'm been in a... sort of lazy mood lately. I'm genuinely sorry for this, as I understand that your kind reviews definitely deserve replies. I'll try to get around to replying to every review on this chapter. So if I forget, just PM me and tell me to hurry up XD**

**This chapter is... interesting. I'm not sure how it will stack up to the other chapters, but I think it's okay. Perhaps random, but okay XD Also, for those who are wondering, the next chapter of As If By Magic will hopefully be up within the next five days. It's in the middle of being beta-read now ;D Everyone toss Mimi-dudette a cookie for that.**

**This story isn't beta-read, though. Mainly because I'm too lazy to send it in for beta-reading. So if you see any mistakes, please point them out!**

**_Disclaimer: If I owned Animorphs.... Oh gee, I'm running out of disclaimers._  
**

The Visser Humiliation Club

Chapter 4 – Into the Wilderness

_(Erek's P.O.V)_

It was today that we would learn a very valuable lesson – that Taylor's idea of fun was very much different from our own.

It all started on a Friday afternoon. Taylor had called Tom, Gafrash and myself to her house, saying that she had something of great importance to share with us. When I arrived at Taylor's doorstep, I noticed that Gafrash (who was dressed as a tree,) and Tom were already there. And they did not look happy.

"Erek!" Tom said with a hint of angriness, "Any idea where that useless _dapsen_ is?"

I changed my hologram to display a confused look, "Who?"

"Taylor!" Tom shouted, "That stupid Yeerk was meant to be here twenty minutes ago!"

I shrugged, "Maybe she got caught in traffic."

Tom gave me a "you-have-got-to-be-kidding" look, "Oh, come on Erek. Why in the name of the Kandrona would she be stuck in traffic? Her car emits blasted death-threats!"

He did have a point, I suppose. It was a bit unusual for Taylor to be late. She was normally the first one here. Besides, she had sounded so excited over the phone. Though she was scary, I doubted she would stand us up.

Tom shot a frustrated glare at the door, "We're going to break in."

"How?" I asked curiously.

We both turned around to Gafrash who was sing, "Bark is good, good good good!" over and over again.

Once Gafrash realized we were staring at him, he gulped.

"Gafrash," Tom cooed, "Would you be so kind as to ram down the door with your head horn?"

"But hurt door. Door cry!" Gafrash claimed.

Tom sighed, "Gafrash, ram down that door. Or Erek and I will pick use you as a battering ram."

I secretly prayed to myself that Gafrash would just ram the door down. Little did Tom and Gafrash know that it was impossible for me to assist in using Gafrash as a battering ram, as it was an act of violence.

"What bat-ring-ran?" said Gafrash, looking very confused.

Tom slapped his own forehead with his palm, a gesture he must have picked up from humans. "Just ram the door down, Gedd-Brain."

So Gafrash attempted to ram down the door, only to ram face-first into it instead.

"Take of the costume, you tree-eater."

So Gafrash began taking off his tree costume. Unfortunately, at this moment an innocent old lady was walking her dog passed and just happened to get a glimpse of a green demon emerging from a distorted tree costume. The lady screamed, picked up her dog, and ran for her life.

I thought I heard Gafrash sniffle.

And so Gafrash attempted to ram down the door a second time. This time, however...

"Gafrash horn no come out! Door eat Grafrash head horn! Horn stuck! No good!" Gafrash panicked, desperately trying to pull his head horn out of the wooden door. Eventually he gave up and sat at a very awkward angle, waiting for some assistance.

"Friend help Gafrash?" Gafrash asked, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

"No can do, Gafrash," said Tom. I elbowed him hard enough to get his attention without actually being violent. Tom coughed, "Uh, okay."

So Tom grabbed Gafrash by the legs and attempted to pull him out. After another whole twenty minutes of pulling to no prevail, Tom finally realized something very important.

"Hey, the doors unlocked!"

So Tom opened the door and walked inside, leaving Gafrash with his head horn stuck in the wooden door. I looked at Gafrash sympathetically. Since I couldn't pull him out without injuring him, he was probably going to be there for a long time.

Then Gafrash did something that truly baffled and amazed me. He pulled his head horn out of the door, stood up, dusted himself off, and casually walked inside as if nothing had even happened.

That was one weird Hork-Bajir...

I followed the others down to the basement, were Taylor was waiting for us, holding a cat-o-nine-tails whip. "Where have you been!?" she fumed.

As hard as it may be to believe, I think Tom was too angry to even notice the deadly whip in Taylor's hands."Where have WE been?" Tom snapped, "Where have WE been? No, where have YOU been!? I rang that pathetic, primitive human technology which chirps out an annoying, repetitive tune twenty time, and no reply! NO reply!"

Taylor looked a bit a taken back at Tom's random outburst of anger, "Okay Tom. No need to go insane over it."

"INSANE?! INSANE this coming from a -"

"Taylor," I interrupted, "Don't you have something to tell us?"

Tom made an angry huffing noise and plunked down on the sofa, failing to accept his defeat.

Gafrash smirked a Hork-Bajir smirk. At least I think that was what it was. Hork-Bajir expressions can be hard to decode.

"Ah yes," Taylor began, "The other day I went to a complex that humans call a 'cinema' or a 'theater' and saw the most delightful movie. It was about two human youths, one male and one female, who despised each other. But under some strange circumstance which I fail to remember, they got stuck in the wilderness. During this time they starting falling for each other-"

"Ouch," Tom commented.

Taylor frowned, "It is a human expression, Tom. It means they began to love each other, from what I understand of the phrase. The two humans kissed, then kissing lead to other things, they -"

I held out my hand indicating for her to stop, "Too much information, Taylor."

Taylor had a puzzled look on her face, "I was going to say they cooked delicious, white, fluffy marshmallows over a campfire."

Gafrash shook his head and smiled, a look on his face which indicated an understanding beyond his years. Or in this case, his mental capacity.

"So why are we here, anyway?" Tom asked angrily. Apparently he still hadn't cooled off from before.

"We are here because we are going to go hiking," Taylor grinned evilly, "with the Vissers, that is."

Gafrash, Tom and myself all displayed looks on our faces which just screamed, "WHAT?!" There is an abbreviation that humans use over IMing programs that would also describe the looks on our faces, but I do not believe it would be appropriate to mention.

"Taylor, you're joking aren't you?" Tom pleaded, "Please tell me your joking...."

Taylor shook her head, "Nope! Our plan will be to stalk the Vissers, wait until they fall in love, then take a photo of them kissing! The Council of Thirteen will be surely grateful, and promote us all to high-ranking Vissers ourselves!"

"This plan sucks..." Tom muttered.

"Lollipop," finished Gafrash randomly.

"What's in it for me?" demanded Tom.

"I bought you a water-proof and shock-proof camera," Taylor mentioned.

Toms eyes lit up, and the hatred he held towards this little excursion before diminished, "Yay!" he cheered, "I shall name him Exposie the Third!"

Taylor grinned.

Gafrash sighed.

And I simply wondered if all strands of sanity had gone astray.

* * *

My question was answered an hour later.

Taylor had decided to unknowingly torture us this time, by explaining to us when our little hiking field trip was going to happen – the same day.

It was self-explanatory that nobody was pleased about this, even Gafrash. Despite his incredibly low IQ, he still managed to figure out that hiking, especially with Taylor and the Vissers, equaled bad.

Very, very bad.

"So what's Taylor's plan, anyway?" I asked Tom. Tom, and I were standing at the beginning of the trail, doing basically nothing. Taylor had told us to wait here, as she had to set up something further up the trail. Gafrash was told to follow.

"You didn't hear?" Tom questioned, "She only talked about it for the _whole_ car trip."

Okay, so maybe I was too busy talking to Lourdes on the Chee-Net in order to drown out the death-threats of Taylor's car....

"Nope."

Tom sighed with exasperation, probably thinking I was an idiot, "Taylor is setting up tents for us to "camp out" in, further up the trail. Meanwhile, we're supposed to wait here for Visser Three to show up, we then lead him up the trail and -"

I raised my hand, "Question."

"If you must..."

"Why would Visser Three show up? It's not like Taylor would just say, 'Hey! Visser Three! Want to come camping with a bunch of Yeerks bent on exposing you, and your mortal enemy?'"

He shrugged, "How am I meant to know? Taylor just does these things, okay? She clicks her host's fingers and its like things happen by magic."

He had that right. Taylor had a knack for making these sort of things happening. We shouldn't even begin to understand how she actually does it.

"Okay. Go on..."

"It's my job to lead Visser Three up the to the tents. Then, Gafrash will jump out of the of the bushes disguised as a _Paranottka _-"

"Whats a Paranottka?"

Tom shot me a suspicious glance, "Don't you know, Erek? A Paranottka is an animal on the Yeerk home planet."

"Erh... I came from the... north pole of the Yeerk home world."

"Ah," Tom nodded with understanding, "The Kulp Traar pool. Well, for the record, Paranottkas look like giant worms."

"Like Taxxons?"

"Similar, I suppose. Except they often feed on plants."

I raised an eyebrow, "often?"

Tom grinned, "Let's just say over the years Paranottkas have developed a taste for... Andalite meat."

I instantly blocked the mental image out of my mind. But sadly failed.

"Then?"

"Then Gafrash will scare Visser Three into the tent. Meanwhile, Visser One should be arriving. You have to lead her up the trail and to the camping ground. By this time, it should be dark. Too dark to head back. And then Visser Three and Visser One will be forced to spend a night in the wilderness together, where we shall make them fall in love and take photos of them kissing! Thus sending the photos into the Council of Thirteen, and getting ourselves promoted to Vissers!" You could literally hear the the excitement in his voice as he said all that.

Talk about power-hungry.

* * *

It didn't take long for Visser Three to arrive.

Luckily for me, when he did arrive I was hiding in the bushes. I didn't see any point on having to approach Visser Three. After all, he didn't seem to be in good a mood. This was indicated by the many Yeerkish words he called Tom which my translator chip couldn't translate.

About twenty minutes after Tom and Visser Three had left, Visser One arrived. When I greeted her, I noticed she was in a better mood than Visser Three. Not a good mood, but better.

For the whole walk to the tents, all she talked about was how Visser Three was a buffoon, and how this "discovery" better be worth it. The problem was, I have no idea what this discovery was, so I kept on nodding with mixed muttered of, "Yes Visser One," and, "Of course, my Visser."

"So Kemprit, tell me: why is it that you and Netri run out on me the other day?" she asked.

This was not the question I had been hoping she was ask. So my reply wasn't very thought through. It involved a crazy story of slinky, super glue and a banana. Miraculously, I think Visser One seemed to buy the story. But you could never be sure...

When we arrived at the camp site, we were greeted by the melody of quiet sobbing coming from inside the tent.

(It was... so scary.... never have I, Visser Three, the most super-powerful-awesomest-coolest-most-supreme Visser in the universe ever been so... horrified.)

"I know. It was just a big, mean Paranottka, wasn't it? Just a big meanie," cooed Tom's (?!) voice soothingly.

Visser Three sniffled, (Yes...)

I saw Visser One smirk to herself. She then approached the door of the tent and opened it up.

(AHHHHH THE PARANOTTKA IS BACKKKKKKK!)

A long silence ensured.

"Why, hello there Visser Three."

"Dapsen Face!? I mean... erh... Visser One.... What are you doing here?!"

Something told me I didn't want to know the whole idea behind Taylors plans, so I turned away. It was then that I noticed the bushes rustling. Curiously, I stepped over to the bushes. What I saw surprised me.

It was Gafrash. But it had appeared Gafrash had lost all his dignanty, as he had been dressed as what looked like, of all things, a giant purple gummy worm.

So _that's _what a Paranottka looks like.

"Erek!" Gafrash exclaimed, "Erek help Gafrash! No get off! Evil suit! Free or dead! Free or dead! Free or dea-"

"Okay, okay! Now quiet!"

Gafrash decided to be a well behaved Hork-Bajir and obeyed as I removed the suit for him. At the end, Gafrash collapsed to the ground in relief and said, "Gafrash breath! Air, air!"

I just sighed and turned back to the tents. Visser Three and Visser One had taken their argument outside the tent, with poor Tom standing helplessly in the background.

"You're covered in mud! For Kandrona's sake, please take a bath!" pleaded Visser One, "I shall not share a tent with such a filthy creature."

(I will not!) protested Visser Three stubbornly, (There are fish in that lake!)

"Well obviously. Listen, I am really not in the mood to argue with you. Please just take a bath!"

"How about you have a fishing competition or something?" I asked, desperate to get them to stop their headache-causing argument, "Visser One wins; Visser Three takes a bath. Visser Three wins, he doesn't have to have a bath."

(What a stupid and pointless idea, scum!) exclaimed Visser Three.

Visser One smirked, "Are you scared, Visser Three?"

(...No! No! Of course I'm not! There is just nothing for me to gain by this pointless competition.)

"You won't have to take a bath," Tom pointed out.

Visser Three ignored him, (If I win, you low life piece of filth, then I want your rank as Visser One!"

Visser One rolled her eyes, "Dream on."

(Well... you can't blame a Yeerk for trying,) Visser Three muttered, (How about the leftover piece of Mars Bar I happen to know you stole from Innis 226 last week?)

"Deal."

So Visser Three and Visser One had a fishing contest with some rods that Taylor had conveniently brought along. Also convenient, the stream was right next to the camping grounds. Visser Three had decided to morph to human, as it would be easier to fish in this form.

Taylor had also appeared out of what was seemingly nowhere, and was cooking something on an open fire to the side of the grounds. Gafrash was sitting on a branch of a nearby tree, eating what was probably bark. As for Tom, he was talking to his camera.

Both the Vissers sat next to the stream with a bored expression on their faces. It had been half an hour already, and without a single bite.

"We missed Visser Karaoke Night for this?" I heard Visser Three mutter to Visser One.

Visser One shrugged, "We all know Visser Fifteen would have won, anyway. What with her performance of Barbie Girl, by Aqua."

Visser Three snorted, "Oh-so-perfect Visser Fifteen. Next time that I'm attending karaoke night, I'll show that useless show-off how its done... I'll -"

"Dinner!" called Taylor happily from the open campfire.

"Do I look like I require the aid of your food, scum?"

"No thank you, I must keep an eye on my fishing rod."

"Gafrash no eat dinner. Bark good."

Taylor shot a glare at Tom and I. We gulped in unison.

"Come on you two, try some of my... our... us... my homemade potato salad!"

As much as we tried to resist, Taylor _made_ us eat it. And by made I mean giving us a variety of scary glares which forced us into eating it. During all this, I also couldn't help but to wonder why Taylor was cooking potato salad over a fire.

The stuff was awful. Since I'm an android, I don't need to eat. I still can though, and by this point I was starting to think it was more of a blessing than a curse.

"So do you like it?" Taylor questioned, a happy grin spread across her face, "Because every living thing loves my potato salad!"

Oh good. So that would give me an excuse not to like it.

I looked over at Tom. His face had turned a bright blue.

I blocked off my sensors to taste and swallowed the rubbish that Taylor called "potato salad."

"Tom? You okay?"

Apparently my voice shocked Tom out of his daze, as he accidentally dropped (which he was craddling) into Taylor's potato salad.

"NOOOOOOO!" Tom screeched, and quickly picked the camera out of the salad. He then stroke the camera as if it was a cat.

"My precious..." he cooed.

Taylor and I just stared.

And all we could hear in the background was the sound of Gafrash munching bark.

* * *

Taylor had decided to call it an early night, and went off to bed. Tom had wanted to go to sleep too, but Taylor had insisted he stay up so he could be ready at all times to take photos of the Vissers, who were sitting around the campfire doing nothing.

Heck, even Gafrash had fallen asleep. He was snoring away on the branch of an old oak tree.

I could see that obviously nothing exciting was going to happen soon. So I was going to make something exciting happen. Little did I know the chaos this would cause.

I hid in the bushes and projected a hologram of a Paranottka, hoping to spark some reaction from the Vissers. It sparked a reaction, alright....

"AHHHHHHHHH!" They both screamed in unison and jumped into each others arms. Tom instantly jumped to alert and began snapping photos.

"You were right! There really was a Paranottka here!" Visser One exclaimed.

"But that does not matter now! We are going to die! Die I say!"

"This is the end..."

"Visser One... before it takes us... there is something I have to tell you. I do not hate you, Visser One. In fact, I find your dictating attitude rather pleasant, and I very much like being around you!"

"Oh, Visser Three. I feel the same way! You see -"

PLUNK!

Something hit me. Hard. This forced me to drop the hologram of the Paranottka.

Visser Three and Visser One blinked at the disappearing Paranottka, then instantly jumped out of each others arms and quickly looked away.

"This never happened."

"Agreed."

I caught a glimpse of what had hit me lying on the ground. A Frisbee. Oh great, a Frisbee had caused the malfunction of the holograph. How embarassing. Hopefully the other Chee would never find out about this.

On the Frisbee, written in blue, bold text was the words, "Property of The Ellimist."

Oh, how wonderful. The Ellimist was in on this, too.

I gazed back over at Tom, who was holding his camera, which still had traces of potato salad on in, high in the air and was laughing evilly.

It was then that a giant fish jumped out of the river, ate Tom's camera, and dived back into the river.

I swear, thats really what happened.

Tom's left eye twitched awkwardly. Taylor then appeared out of nowhere, raised her hand triumphantly into the air and said, "Told you so! It's loved by _all_ living things!"

Tom then let out a violent scream, and dived and swam down the river, trying to catch up with the fish which had taken his beloved camera.

Taylor thought this would be a good time to bail. Despite the darkness, she disappeared into the unknown of the walking track. She didn't seem to mind. She was insane, after all.

It was then that I noticed the soft sound of munching behind me. I spun around. Gafrash was there, wide awake and chewing bark. He then swallowed the bark and said in perfect, unbroken English;

"_Don't worry Erek. I won't tell."_

**A/N: C-C-CLIFFIE! XD Okay, well that's chapter four ;D If anybody has any ideas for later chapters, please let me know. I'll give you credit! ;D Also, please PLEASE review! I absolutely love reading your reviews ;D**

**Also, I'm tired and I'm going to go to sleep now. Goodnight!  
**


	5. Four Seasons of Disaster

**A/N: Behold, the much awaited chapter five! I'm not sure how this one stacks up to the last chapters. So please let me know if you like it, what you would like to see in the future chapters, and if there are any mistakes. And to everybody who asked when the Animorphs will find out, they will soon. Just not yet ;D I want the club to have just a little more time being unknown.**

**Like always, I am overwhelmed by all the reviews and support. Thank you so much everybody! Your reviews mean a lot to me and I am so interested in hearing your opinions! ;D**

**Disclaimer:** **Gafrash ate the owner's certificate I had to Animorphs.**

**Oh gee, my disclaimers are getting awful. Any disclaimer suggestions? ;D**

_Four Seasons of Disaster_

_(Erek's POV)_

From my experience, staying in hotels is fun. It's meant to be a time were you can just kick back and relax. Enjoy a swim in the pool or maybe chill out in front of a wide-screen TV. Yes, hotels trips to hotels are _normally_ fun.

But not when Taylor is involved.

"We're staying at the Four Seasons!" announced Taylor, as she burst through the door and interrupted the meeting that she had been ten minutes late to. It was only a day after the events of our little camping trip.

I shot Gafrash a nervous glance. So far, I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him about what happened at the camp and to make up excuses for what he had saw. All I could hope for now was that he keeps his mouth shut. Taylor and Tom definitely did _not _need to find out I'm an android.

But still, I couldn't help to wonder how his brain managed to put the facts together that _I _had made that hologram. Or better yet, how he actually managed to put together a sentence in perfect English. Now that was truly baffling... I was always under the impression that all Hork-Bajir were... well, stupid.

While I was thinking about all this, Gafrash was oblivious to my pondering glance. He was happily sitting in the hot tub Taylor had bought during our Walmart outing.

Gafrash clapped his hands happily at Taylor's announcement, "Yay! Four Seasons! Four Season good. Gafrash eat Four Season! Make Four Season run, scream 'Gafrash! Gafrash!"

I, however, was not as thrilled."Where's Tom?" I asked Taylor. It was a good question, too. Tom usually arrived before Taylor. And with the opportunity of a new camera for every outing, why would he miss

it?

Taylor just shrugged, "He said something about food poisoning. I couldn't image what from, though."

Gee Taylor, maybe you should ask your potato salad.

"So anyway," Taylor started up again, "We are going to stay at the Four Seasons. Our plan this time goes something like this: I have arranged with some of my acquaintances to book Visser Three and Visser One the same room at the nearest Four Seasons Hotel. Both were originally going to stay in the hotel anyway, under convenient circumstances. Our job, like always, is to expose them!"

"But how are we going to take photos of them without Tom and a camera?" I asked, rather desperate to get out of the scenario Taylor had planned. After what happened yesterday I don't anybody of our little club was really in a good mood. Except Taylor, that is. She always seems to be in a happy mood. In a torturous way, that is.

Taylor waved her hand dismissively, "Oh, silly Erek. We don't need Tom!"

Well, that sounded a little harsh. Whether she intended to sound that way or not, I am unsure of.

"You see," Taylor began. Gafrash and I sighed in unison. We had both learned that when Taylor began a sentence with, "you see," it meant a giant story was on its way. "When I arrived at Tom's house with a batch of my homemade potato salad as a get-better-soon present," Gafrash made a muffled noise which could have possibly been a laugh, "I found him hiding under his bed. Such a weird Yeerk, that Tom is. So anyway, I told him about our mission today and he informed me he was to sick too go and that he would allow Erek to have his job."

Thanks a bunch, Tom.

"Do I get a camera?" I asked. Maybe if I was lucky, I would get to keep it. Considering I had an inbuilt camera, however, it seemed a bit pointless.

"Yes," Taylor said, "I bought you a new SmartFlash DXL58. Tom has a name request for it, by the way."

"Really? What is it?"

"Bruce."

I frowned, "Bruce? Just Bruce? No Exposie the Third, Exposie Junior Junior?

"No. Just... Bruce."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Huh."

"Mm.."

"Bark."

Taylor and I both stared at Gafrash. He was still sitting in the hot tub, looking relaxed as ever. Except this time, he was a sleep – and sleep talking.

"Tree. Bark. Eat. Good..."

Taylor lost interest quickly, "Well, I'm going upstairs to prepare some food for the car trip! If you're lucky, you might get another taste of my homemade potato salad! Yay!"

Taylor walked up the stairs and I resisted the urge to gag. Hmm, gag. How would that even be possible considering I'm an android?

Gafrash was still snoring away or in the hot tub. I rolled my holographic eyes.

"Gafrash, I know you're not sleeping. So please stop that ridiculous act and tell me who you are."

Gafrash instantly stopped his act, and got out of the hot tub.

"Me Gafrash. Bark good."

"Gafrash..."

"My name is Kad Eemah. My friends just call me Gafrash. I am a Hork-Bajir. In my spare time I enjoy listening to the works of those such as Beethoven and I am capable of Z-Space Physics and any human mathematics."

Okaaaaaay... and to say I thought that he had a limited vocabulary.

The room was filled with a long silence.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Uh, I guess so."

"Good."

"But that still doesn't explain who you are."

"Don't you like mysteries, Erek? Is that it?" he taunted.

"You're weird."

"Coming from an android."

"POTATO SALAD!" Cheered Taylor as she burst through the door with a bowl of potato salad in her hands. Gafrash automatically fell to the floor, pretending to sleep.

That or he passed out from shock.

&&&

It turned out he passed out from shock.

But that doesn't really matter. Because what was going to happen next was a lot, lot worse.

The car trip.

The three-hour-long cartrip.

With Taylor.

I watched as Gafrash's eyes flickered open and he looked around in panic. I suppressed a chuckle. Taylor had dressed Gafrash up in a pink dress and drenched his face with girly makeup while he had passed out. According to her, it was a "disguise." Gafrash didn't even have a chance to escape while Taylor dragged him into her car.

"Gafrash where? No at house! Where?"

"You can speak proper English," I said and then gestured to Taylor in the driver's seat, "I don't think she can hear you."

Taylor, who was driving and listening to her MP3 player at the same time, bobbed her head from side to side and was singing, "Oh my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and **the**ir life, is better than yours, damn right is better than yours!"

Gafrash looked down at the long, pink dress he was wearing and made a disdainful look. "What atrocious outfit has that blithering idiot made me where this time?"

I shrugged, "I wasn't really paying attention. Although I'm pretty sure Taylor said it made you look 'Pretty'."

Gafrash scrunched up him face, a possible sign of anger. His expression then softened. "Why isn't Taylor's car making death threats?"

"Hey!" I exclaimed, "You're right. Its been silent for the last two hours."

"How awfully bizarre," said Gafrash, before adding, "Two hours? How long have I been out for, android?"

"Don't you like mysteries, Gafrash? Is that it?" I mimicked.

Again, Gafrash looked frustrated. But he said no more. He decided to torture me in another way. By bouncing up and down on the car seat, which for some unusual reason contained springs. So to say he "boinged" up and down would be more accurate.

After a while, the noise began to get irritating.

"Can you stop that?"

He didn't answer. He just continued bouncing up and down, the car seat emitting a constant melody of "spring, boing, squeak! Spring, boing squeak!"

It was then that I realized we had come to the first _season _of _disaster. _Ironically, it was Spring. Spring is when the annoying tune of two very annoying things fill the air, and you couldn't wipe the stain from your memory. Forever now would I have that annoying little song of "squeak, boing," combined with the awfulness of Taylor's singing playing over and over again.

If this was spring, I didn't even want to imagine what summer would be like. One thing was for sure, it was only going to get worse.

&&&

One hour and thirty-two song titles later from Taylor, we arrived at the Four Seasons hotel.

"Freedom!" I yelled, as I jumped over the door of Taylor's car, (she has one of those fancy sports cars with no roof,) and made a dash across the parking lot. Gafrash followed me not far behind.

By the time Taylor arrived in the lobby, Gafrash had succeeded in eating half of the giant flower display in the center of the room. He was attracting quite a crowd of people, too. Just imagine it: a cross-dressing alien, which could easily be mistaken for a demon, monster, or even the green goblin; chomping away on a flower display.

"Mommy, what's that?" asked a little kid to his mother. The kid was wearing swim wear, so he and his mother where obviously on the way to the hotel pool when they caught sight of the killer tree eater. The mother covered her sons eyes and quickly dragged him away.

Taylor ignored Gafrash's presence and went straight to the front desk.

"Hello," said the blond receptionist, an incredibly awful and cheesy grin on her face, "Have you got a reservation?"

"I have a reservation for Taylor Talesdale."

The reception began typing on her computer, searching for the reservation.

"Your last name is Talesdale?" I asked Taylor in a whisper, "Wow, that is a mouthful."

"Annoy me again Erek and I have a dracon beam with your name on it."

I took one step to the side away from Taylor.

Taylor grinned, "You're so cute when you're scared!"

I shuddered.

"Ah, here it is!" said the receptionist and then handed us the keys, "Your room is room 51 on the tenth floor."

It was then that Gafrash decided to throw up all over the lobby floor. The crowd which was surrounding him quickly diminished.

The receptionist shot Gafrash a glance of disgust, "I really wish security would hurry up and remove that thing from the premises."

"But they can't!" Taylor protested, "Because he's with us."

I slapped my face with my palm. Taylor looked at me. I didn't figure it out until ten whole seconds of awkward silence later.

"Yeah... he's with us. He... she's my grandmother."

The receptionist looked horrified, "He?"

I quickly ran over to the display. Gafrash was lying on the ground, as if he had suffered some major leaf hangover.

"Come on Gafra- erh, Grandmother. Get up."

Gafrash attempted but only got up into a half-sitting position before falling down again. He then made a long snorting sound.

Twenty seconds later, he was still making the same sound.

Oh man, he was asleep. If it wasn't for my non-violence programming, I would have kicked him up.

"We will need a litter box for our pet," Taylor said to the receptionist and gestured to Gafrash.

"I thought you said she was your grandmother!" gasped the receptionist.

Taylor looked confused, "But in many races it is common for the grandmothers of the species to be kept as pets. Is this not the case with humans?"

There was probably never a moment more than then where I felt more embarrassed to know Taylor.

&&&

We made it up to the room. The whole way up, Gafrash waddled unsteadily from side to side. He seemed to have recovered a little though. He wasn't throwing up now.

We realized that Gafrash wasn't getting at all when he started claiming a fluffy pink bunny was in front of us. I believe his exact words were, "Gafrash see pink bunny! Yay bunny! Pretty pink, pink pink!"

Once we had entered, Taylor noticed the king-sized double bed and squealed. She ran over and began jumping on it, while giggling continuously for five minutes straight. This gave Gafrash time to recover from whatever was in those leaves, and he slowly regained sanity.

It was then that I noticed the room had nowhere for Gafrash or me to sleep.

"Uh... Taylor?" I asked cautiously. Tom had once told me that nothing good comes when you awaken Taylor from a giggling spree, and if you were going to ask a question, you should do so with caution.

"Hehehehehehehehehehehe," giggled Taylor continuously before pausing. "Did you say something, Erek?"

"Yes. Where are Gafrash and I going to sleep?"

Calmly, Taylor stepped of the bed and made her way to the glass doors which lead on to the balcony. She opened her doors.

"Welcome to your room!" She said cheerfully.

You have _got _to be kidding me.

She then shoved us out the door, closed and locked it, and went back to jumping on her bed.

"Oh, come on Erek," Gafrash mocked, "It's not like you actually need a bed. You are, after all, an android."

I looked away and sniffed arrogantly.

"What happened back there to you anyway?" I asked.

Gafrash sighed, "As you might have already figured out, I am different from my people. Unlike them, I actually have an IQ scored which exceeds twenty. A matter of fact, my IQ score is very close to the human that was called 'Einstein.'"

I made a "Pttf" noise, "Well... I... uh... I saw the first performance of Hamlet!"

Gafrash didn't look like he really cared, "However, when I eat Earth leaves, I tend to revert back to what would be called a normal Hork-Bajir. And unfortunately, I am terribly addicted to leaves."

"Same thing happen with bark?"

"Bark is fine."

I looked confused, "But that still doesn't explain everything. There is plenty of times you have acted like that without being under the influence of leaves."

"I was acting."

"Why?"

Gafrash grinned a Hork-Bajir grin, "Secret." And then he went over to a potted plant on the corner and sat on in, breaking the plant and making it look rather miserable.

We had officially came to the second season of disaster. Summer. The feeling of knowing you are trapped on the balcony in the sizzling heat along with a giant, tree-eating lizard and a complete nut-case happily jumping on the bed in the cool, air-conditioned room inside.

&&&

Eventually Taylor discovered that the joys of jumping on a springy bed can't last forever, and let Gafrash and I back inside. That, and she told us that the Vissers would "magically" arrive at the same room. She equipped me with a camera, gave Gafrash the keys (who knows how she got them... my guess is she threatened the receptionist with her potato salad) and told us to go next door and wait for the Visser's arrival.

"And what are you going to do?" I asked Taylor.

"I am going to go downstairs and try to illegally sell my potato salad to guests!"

Good luck with that...

So Gafrash and I went next door. The room was very similar to Taylor's room. White, polished marble floor and a expensive looking leather sofa along with other goodies, like a wide-screen TV.

"Erek, we hide where? Gafrash no know! Visser see if no hide!"

Great, he must have eaten leaves when I wasn't looking...

"I'll project an image of a lamp around us."

I saw Gafrash smirk.

"What?" I asked.

Gafrash shook his head, "Gafrash think of rude joke. Joke have lamp."

"Then I'm pretty sure I don't want to know."

Gafrash and I stood in the corner of the room and I projected an image of a lamp to disguise us. In the process, I had to drop my own holograph. When Gafrash saw this, I was met with exclaims of, "Where Erek? Android eat Erek! Erek no here!"

The door rattled. I shooshed Gafrash. One of the Vissers was opening the door, but which one?

The door swung open and in walked Visser One. I suppressed a sigh of relief. Personally, I was glad it wasn't Visser Three standing there. Visser One calmly walking in, plunked down on the sofa, and turned on the TV.

So far so good. Now all we had to do was wait for Visser Three to get here.

The door swung open violently, a loud bang created from when it impacted with the wall.

"ALL BOW DOWN TO THE MIGHTY VISSER THREE AND HIS FIRST-CLASS HOTEL ROOM!"

Visser Three and Visser One spotted each other.

Visser One blinked. Visser Three did also.

"VISSER THREE?!"

"VISSER ONE?"

A very ticked looking Visser One and a Visser Three in human morph did _not _look happy to see each other. I had to wonder to myself if this plan was going to even work. Sure, we had gotten close before. But things never exactly went according to plan...

"What are you doing here, you useless _dapsen?_!" demanded Visser One.

"DAPSEN?! No, _you _are the dapsen! And I am here because this is _my _hotel room! That, and there is a rather nifty arts and crafts convention being held in the hotel convention hall."

... Okay...

Visser One narrowed her eyes angrily, "There is only one way to settle this dispute."

"Yes," agreed Visser Three, "Yo Momma War!"

If I hadn't heard that with my own ears (or my sound sensors, in this case) then I would have never have believed it. I don't think Gafrash wanted to believe it either. I looked over him and his mouth was hanging open. But I swear, this is all true.

Visser One walked over and turned the stereo on. Some random rap/hip-hop song blared from the speakers.

Visser Three began.

"Yo Momma's so clumsy, she makes Gedds look graceful!"

Visser One's turn, "Yo Momma's so annoying, the Helmacrons took her as their queen!"

"Yo Momma's so ugly, the Taxxons mistook her for one of their own!"

"Well your Momma's so primitive, that she isn't even capable of Z-Space Physics!"

"Your Momma's so stupid, she actually makes Hork-Bajir look intelligent!"

Gafrash cracked. "Oh no he didn't!"

"Gafrash, NO!"

But it was too late. Gafrash jumped out of the holograph and let out a startling roar, sounding almost identical to that of a lion's. And let me tell you, when a Hork-Bajir as tall as Gafrash jumps out of thin air and roars like a lion, it is scary.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Visser One fainted into Visser Three's arms. Quickly, I turned on my camera and began to take photos.

Gafrash just stood there, breathing heavily and looking very, very angry.

"Wh-who are you?" stuttered Visser Three. Previously, I hadn't even known it was possible for Vissers to be scared. But that certainly wasn't the case anymore.

"I am..." I thought for a moment but then said, "Elfangor, back from the dead!"

Visser Three fainted.

The third season of disaster, autumn, had arrived. The time where everything falls to the ground like leaves.

Or in this case, wet cement.

&&&

When we arrived back to our apartment, Taylor was still out. I was secretly praying she would be able to sell all of her potato salad so there would be none left for Gafrash and I.

We had managed to get quite a few good photos of Visser One in Visser Three's arms. Hopefully that would be enough to convince the Council of Thirteen that both Vissers were unfit for their rolls.

Gafrash paced around the room, a look of deep thought on his face.

"What is it?" I asked curiously.

"Don't you think it was a bit _too _easy?"

"The photos?"

"Everything. What was the possibility that we would actually be able to pull this off?"

"My inbuilt calculator says 1 in 115.32. But hey, let's just be happy that everything turned out okay."

I also began pacing around on the white marble floor, clutching the camera in my hands.

And what where the odds, I slipped on something.

The camera went flying. Through the air, through the bathroom doorway and into the toilet.

"No!" I exclaimed, and quickly ran over to the toilet. But it was too late. The camera was slowly sinking to the dark, dark depths of that damned toilet.

Winter – The feeling of cold, hard failure mocking you.

Gafrash came up behind me and looked down at the toilet.

"You know," he said, "I was really expecting something more."

"Me too," I agreed.

There was a brief silence.

"If Tom asks," Gafrash began, "Bruce died a hero."

"That and Taylor did it."

"Agreed."

I turned around to see what I had slipped on.

It was _potato salad._

**A/N: PATHETIC CLIFFIE! ;D Let this be a lesson – never trust potato salad. I would write a longer authors note, but it's late where I am, and I should really be getting to bed. Good night! ;D**

**And please, please review! It'll make my day. Or night. Or... something ;D That, and my pet ducks won't eat you.**


	6. Sky High Insanity

**A/N: Behold! The first chapter done in Taylor's POV! Thanks to Purplestar for the idea! I tried to make Taylor sound insane. So if I did a good job, please let me know so. Or if there is things I could do to improve her POV for future chapters, please also let me know.**

**Also, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! Like always, I am overwhelmed by your reviews and I am really grateful! I hope everybody likes the chapter. Please feel free to give me feedback. Also, if I made any stupid spelling/grammatical mistakes, please point them out. Enjoy!**

_Sky High Insanity_

My...her..._our_ name is Taylor.

It was today that we had the most wonderful plan to share with the club! The Visser Humilation Club! Yay! Isn't that a smart name? I thought of it! The girl...she...often reminds me of how smart we are. That one day, Taylor Talesdale will rule the Yeerk empire...

But anyway...

Gafrash was sitting in a giant, rectangular, hollow, lidless box filled with warm, bubbling water that humans often refer to as a hot-tub. Gafrash is my pet Hork-Bajir. The other day I put him on a leash and tried to take him for a walk. I don't think he likes walk very much, though. He must be lazy.

Tom was sitting on the leather sofa, watching something on the wide-screen television. Her...she...the girl and I don't like Tom very much. But then again, I don't think anybody really likes Tom. Don't get me wrong, he can be cute sometimes. It's just that he gets so over-stressed and annoying. The girl says perhaps he needs to take vitamins.

And then there is the cutest club member of all (besides ourself, that is.) Erek! Erek is very, very cute. Way cuter than Tom. In fact, he is so cute I don't know which one I love more; the Yeerk or the human. One day, I want to marry Erek.

_No! _protested the girl, _I'm going to marry him!_

_No! _I said, _I am!_

"Taylor?" Erek asked, looking a bit puzzled that I had burst through the door claiming I had made up a plan, only to stop and argue with the girl.

Tom rolled his eyes, "She must be arguing with her host. She does that from time to time."

Erek's human face displayed an expression with could have possibly been one of disturbance. That or one of tiredness. Human expressions are so hard to read.

"You're so cute when you're tired!"

"Ummm..." said Erek. Now he looked confused. Or hungry. Like I said, difficult to tell.

Oh, he is just so cute!

"So what's this so-called great idea?" Tom asked impatiently, "Tell me before I lose interest and find something better to do."

"Gather around my fellow club members! Because today is the day we go on a primitive air transportation unit, that humans call an airplane, with the Vissers!"

Tom said a human word I did not recognize. He must have been barely able to maintain is joy. Yipee!

&&&

"I can't believe we are actually doing this," Erek muttered as the club stood in the queue to get our bags ex-rayed at the airport.

"Yeah," Tom agreed, "I mean, Taylor's ideas are normally insane. But this?"

"Bark," commented Gafrash.

"Where are we even going?" Erek asked me.

I shrugged, "How am I meant to know? All I know it we are going up, up and away!" Saying this made both me and the girl very happy and we began to giggle.

"Oh, in the name of the Kandrona..." Tom muttered, "We don't even know where we are going?"

"Guess not," Erek said, and sighed.

We came to the front of our queue and each of our bags went through without a problem. Except Gafrash's pretty Bob the Builder overnight bag which I had bought him.

"Hold that bag for a second," said the quarantine lady. The man removed the bag from the x-ray and unzipped it. Inside was a bag full of leaves.

"Leaf good," Gafrash said brightly.

The quarantine staff ended up confiscating the leaves. Apparently they were a "risk" to the country we were flying to. There are many things I do not understand about humans. Although me and the girl do seem to have a good understanding.

Once we were cleared by quarantine, Tom exploded with rage. "What were you thinking?" he questioned Gafrash, "You could have got us in a lot of trouble! Do you know what quarantine probably thought those leaves were?!"

"Bark?" asked Gafrash innocently.

"Seaweed?" I also asked.

Tom sighed. Tom always seems to be sighing. I think he needs to be more happy. Maybe I should try and get him a girlfriend. Then again, who would want to date Tom? According to my host, who was once very popular herself, Tom does not fall under the category of "cool."

"It doesn't matter," Tom muttered, "the leaves probably wasn't what my host and I were thinking of, anyway."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," Erek said.

I had no idea what they were talking about.

&&&

Erek seemed overcome by happiness once he found out where he was sitting on the plane – the next row in front of Tom, Gafrash and I. Though Erek is very, very cute...did I mention he is cute? Oh, well, sometimes I get under the impression he is a loner.

As you would imagine, the girl and I were very upset that we couldn't sit next to Erek. Because we both think he is very, very cute and we want to marry him one day! Like I was saying, I was quite miserable because instead of next to Erek, I was placed in the row behind.

"Bags window seat!" I called out and quickly sat on the seat before Gafrash or Tom could steal it from me.

Tom looked annoyed, "We weren't going to steal it from you anyway." I ignored Tom. He didn't deserve to be heard. Gafrash sat in the middle seat, and Tom sat in the aisle seat. Erek was in the middle seat in the next row.

"Oh, its just _so _relaxing in this row," Erek said from the row in front of us. "It's such a pity that Tom can't join me because any second now people will fill up the seats either side of me..."

"Shut up, Erek.." Tom said pathetically.

"Make me."

"Tinky-Winky, Dipsy, La-La, Po!" Sung Gafrash, who was busy listening to the radio on a pair of headsets gone.

Tom looked around, perplexed, "Where did my headset go?"

"Gafrash eat headset. Headset good. Tom want back?"

"Erh, no thanks," Tom replied quickly. Such a strange Yeerk. Wanting something one minute, then not the next.

We waited a few more minutes, until finally one person came to fill up the row Erek was sitting in. However, when Erek found out who was getting the window seat next to him, he didn't seem to be to happy.

"ALL BOW DOWN TO THE MIGHT OF VISSER THREE AND HIS LOUIS VUITTON TRAVEL BAG!"

Erek's jaw dropped and he was about to say something, but he kept quite. Visser Three pushed his way past Erek, not even giving him a chance to move, and into the window seat.

Coincidentally, Tom seemed to be finding something hilarious and was thrust into fits of laughter.

The next person to come along was...

"VISSER ONE?!" exploded Visser Three.

"VISSER THREE?" exploded Visser One.

Erek then took the effort to unfold his table and slam his head on it. Strange, the sound of his head colliding with the plastic made his head sound almost as if it was made of metal more than flesh. Very strange...

"Why are you here?" demanded Visser Three.

"I am flying to -"

Unfortunately, nobody heard what Visser One said because it was at this time that Gafrash decided to "throw up," as humans call it, Tom's headset.

"Ewwwwwww!" I squealed. I...she...us, we don't like gross things like that.

"- in order to open a Sharing there. And why are you here, Visser Three?"

"I am here because my blade ship was severely damaged by those meddling Andalite Bandits. Maybe it wouldn't be if _someone _would make this war public so we can just ENSLAVE THE ENTIRE EARTH ALREADY!"

Everyone in the airplane seemed to stare at Visser Three. It seems this always seems to occur if somebody has said something in a loud manner. Such strange creatures, these humans are.

The plane started to take off down the runway, making a loud take-off noise that all human-constructed airplanes seem to make. That atrocious noise never seems to happen with Yeerk technology. Anyway, once Visser One heard the noise the airplane was making, she said;

"Hear that Visser Three? It sounds exactly like your thought-speech snoring."

Visser Three grunted disdainfully and turned away.

Erek sighed, possibly with relief (or alertness. So hard to decode...) that the two Vissers had stopped fighting.

"For now..." the girl and I muttered to ourselves and we chuckled evilly. Tom gave her...I...me a funny stare. Tom should really learn to keep his eyes to himself.

"Gafrash need go _lak-chuk_," said Gafrash, once the plane was in the air.

"Okay Gafrash," I replied, though secretly confused because I had no idea what that Hork-Bajir word meant. I stared at Tom for guidance.

Tom looked confused, "Don't look at me. I took Health Class instead of Hork-Bajir at Pool School." He then nodded profoundly to himself, "How to maintain a slimy coat. Very important stuff."

Gafrash grunted angrily and just pushed past Tom and ran down the aisle. He managed to knock over a food trolley on the way. The air hostess looked very shocked. You would think by the look on her face that she had never seen a Hork-Bajir dressed in the clothes of an earth female before. Strange women...

Gafrash's quick movement almost caused Tom to almost drop his new water-proof Sony camera. However, he managed to catch it just in time. Then he began calling the camera his baby and saying how they would never be that far apart again. Now you can see why most people don't really like Tom.

During all of this, Visser Three and Visser One were arguing non stop about all issues like who should be Visser One, to what the weather would be like when we land.

Erek didn't look to happy at all. His face was still flat against the table, and he was muttering something to himself about how he would rather go through the whole experience of the invasion of the Han all over again than this. Hmmm...

&&&

It was a little bit later, and I was staring out the window. The clouds which were once cute (but not as nearly as cute as Erek) and fluffy were now overcast and gray.

Gafrash still hadn't came back from what ever he set out to do. Erek still looked rather miserable, with his face still flat on the table. Tom was reading a magazine.

"Hey!" I said to Tom, "my host reads that magazine!"

Tom, for some unknown reason, quickly shoved the magazine (which had a picture of a girl dressed in fashionable clothing on the front and included articles titled "how to apply mascara" and "is he really the one for you?") behind his back.

"What magazine?" asked Tom. I was angry now. Tom was trying to trick me. Well the girl and I wasn't stupid! Tommy was stupid!

Erek stared back from over the seat to see what all the fuss was about. He managed to get a glance of Tom's magazine. Somehow, his passive, I-don't-care reaction seemed out of place. Erek sighed to himself and went back to lying face-first on the fold out table.

All of a sudden, the plane ride began to get rather bumpy. Everybody was panicking, except Tom, who was busy doing a "what is your fashion score?" quiz in his magazine. Erek also didn't mind, and seemed unphased. It was almost as if he had gone through the same events many times already.

"Attention passengers," boomed a voice over the speakers in the plane, "this is your captain speaking. We seem to be experiencing a bit of turbulence. Please don't panic, because this is perfectly norm-"

The plane shot down into a deep descent! Oxygen masks began popping down from above and everybody on the plane began to scream. Especially me.

"Oh no! I'm too pretty to die!" I whined.

"Its like 1945 all over again..." I heard Erek mutter, who was still in the exact same position. It was utterly bizarre how he managed to remain in the same position, despite the steep descent of the airplane.

The Vissers were both screaming, too. They sound funny when they scream. Hehe...

"CURSE YOU PRIMITIVE HUMAN TRANSPORTATION MACHINE!" screamed Visser Three, as he and Visser One united in one last hug (thus almost squishing Erek) before they died.

"Visser Three... I'm sorry I have not listened to your ideas more over the years..." admitted Visser One, "You should really be Visser One."

As soon as Tom heard those words he jumped to his queue and began taking photos. It is unusual how the Vissers never seem to truly notice the presence of a Hork-Bajir, a meanie, a cutie and an gorgeous person.

"Oh, but I am sorry Visser One! You deserve to be Visser One! Before I die...there is something you should know..."

At that moment the plane began moving normally again. The Vissers quickly jumped out of eachothers arms and looked away, as if nothing had ever happened.

Tom was shouting with delight about how he had pictures. Although I don't think the Vissers noticed.

"Attention passengers, the turbulence has now finished. That, and we are only a matter of minutes away from the airport."

Maybe I should go and look for Gafrash. After all, if I lost him then who would I persuade to eat dog food and to wear a collar?

The first place I decided to check was the rest room. There was a line all the way down the aisle for one, so I presumed Gafrash could possibly be in there. I am unsure why.

I pushed past families and a lady wearing a tacky sweat-shirt until I got to the door and knocked.

"Gafrash?"

The only answer I heard from inside was the melody of:

"_Tinky-Winky, Dipsy, La-La, Po!"_

**A/N: What country will the club land in? Will Tom really get away with the scandalous photos he took of the Vissers? All will be revealed in the next chapter! ;D I should probably go to bed now. It's late here, and I'm close to falling asleep at the keyboard. Please review! It will make my day!**


	7. Culture Shock DownUnder

**A/N: Chapter seven is up! I put a lot of effort into this chapter, and it took me a fair while to write, so I really hope everybody enjoys it! If you didn't, then just say so in a review and let me know what you want to improve. Or even so, if you have any suggestions for upcoming chapters, don't hesitate to let me know! ;D**

**Disclaimer: I owned an Australian 10 cent coin from 1966, but I don't own Animorphs.**

**I don't own the Ibis Hotel.**

**I don't own Pokemon.**

**I don't own Supre.**

**Credit: Skyflight Erek's Loyalty for informing me Marie is a variation of the name Maria ;D**

**Warning: This chapter is rated "T Plus." There is a reference towards something near the end, which isn't really suitable for young children. I assure though, it's nothing very awful. This chapter also contains low level of violence. But I suppose many Animorphs story would ;D Also, I mean absolutely no offense by any of the content in this chapter. I have tried my best to stay clear from anything that would upset readers. But still, if you find something you don't like, then don't hesitate to tell me.**

_Culture Shock Down-Under_

_(Erek's POV)_

You how some wise guy said, "No matter how bad things are for you, there is always someone worse off," ? Well, he was right. Knowing the luck that our club seems to get into, we could have ended up in a lot worse place than we did.

We ended up in Australia.

Sydney, to be precise. Seriously, it makes me wonder how we spent so many hours on a plane, not hearing anyone speak a word of where we were going. It could just be coincidence. Or perhaps some super-dimensional beings were at work. One could never be sure.

I was curious to see how much Australia had changed. The last time I was here, I didn't have the most memorable experience. I was a miner in the Australian Gold Rush. But I got bored after only two months of digging for gold, so I caught a ship and went to America instead.

"Yay! France, here we are!" Taylor called, as we exited the plane and entered into the arrival area. She then spotted the sign that said, "Welcome to Sydney!" and her face got a rather sullen look about it.

"Sydney?" she demanded, "Where on Earth is Sydney?"

"Australia," I responded, the exact same time Tom replied, "Tajikistan."

Tom looked slightly embarrassed because of his error, and turned his head away as if he hadn't said anything. Obviously Tom's geographical knowledge of Earth wasn't up to scratch.

"Gafrash eat Australia?" asked Gafrash hopefully.

I was just about to respond, when Taylor cut in and totally missed the point. "Gafrash is right," she said, "we need to find something to eat. But first, we need to to the hotel."

"You booked a hotel?" Tom asked, "I thought this thing was totally unplanned!"

Taylor ignored Tom, and headed off in some random direction. After an hour of circling the airport, we have finally succeeded in collecting our luggage. Now all we had to do was catch a taxi.

As it turned out, the waiting queues for the taxis were extremely long. This caused yet another wait, this time of half an hour. During this time, Gafrash annoyed the other tourists standing in line by chewing on their clothing. Gee, he must have been hungry.

"He's our pet dog!" Taylor announced proudly. I just sighed a shook my head. Rely on Taylor to announce something that would get us in trouble. Surprisingly, none of the other tourists seemed to care. Probably because they were all jet-lagged.

Finally our taxi pulled up. The taxi driver got out, put our bags in the boot for us then asked;

"So wheere ya bee goiin' mayyte?"

Culture shock incident number one: accents. I think we all only just barely recognized what he said. And I swear, if I had to listen to that accent, then I would be insane like Taylor within the next few hours. The sound was equivalent to nails on a chalk board.

"The Ibis Hotel," responded Taylor.

"Aiibees?" checked the driver, as if he had trouble understand _our _accent.

"Ibis," confirmed Taylor.

So we all got into the taxi. Taylor was in the front seat. Tom was on the back right, Gafrash back left, and I was in the middle. I wasn't feeling very comfortable, because one of Gafrash's blades were poking me in the elbow.

"Ibis?" I asked, trying to make conversation, "I saw a documentary on ibises once. Aren't they a type of bird which are considered a type of pest here?"

My attempt to make conversation didn't work too well. The driver probably didn't understand my speech because of my _clear _accent, Taylor was talking to her host and was getting weird stares from the driver, and Gafrash was gnawing on the seat.

Tom made a "pttf" sound, "Don't tell me humans were stupid enough to introduce a species into a different continent."

"Erh..."

**Flashback – 1858**

The vast, gray ocean rocked the large yacht, as we sailed along in search for Australia.

"Oh, land," whined Miss Julia unhelpfully, leaning against the railing of the yacht, "How I miss thee. Seems we have been in sail for weeks and weeks..."

"That's because we have," muttered Darrin, who was playing the part of my brother.

Leanne sighed, and managed to look guilty at the same time. "I still think it was a wrong of you to steal this fine vessel, Erick."

I shrugged, "I'm sure the captain won't be a missin' one fine vessel, Lady Leanne. Remember, he had hundreds."

The boat continued to rock and sway unsteadily in the wind, yet land still seems nowhere in site.

"Caution, my dear brother. If Marie hears you say such a thing, she will have you head," Darrin pointed out.

"That's why we left Marie at the port."

The yacht was suddenly overcome by a shadow. We all slowly looked up. Worst come to worse, it would be one of those strange Skrit Na ships which have been hanging around Earth for some time now. But instead, we looked up to see a flock of strange birds.

"Oh my Ellimist, please not let them dispose of waste..." Miss Julia prayed.

"Where did they all come from?" I asked.

Darrin stared at Leanne.

"Is it not obvious?" he asked then put on his best human female voice and said, "Oh, thou must stop by Singapore and buy crates of seafood for our trip to Australia! I hear it is quiet delicious and -"

Lady Leanne cut Darrin off, "Enough of such impudence, husband. I have no regret for my decision."

"Well, at least we know why they're following us," Miss Julia said and smiled optimistically, "Maybe within a few hours, they will all, alas, simply disappear."

...They never did.

**End Flashback**

"Yeah..." I muttered, "those damn humans..."

Once Taylor had had a long phone conversation with an acquaintance, persuading/threatening to blow their head off with a dracon beam unless they magically booked us a room, we arrived at the Ibis Hotel.

Surprisingly, the hotel didn't look like what I pictured it in my head – a giant Ibis bird.

From there, we pretty much just went to bed because it was so late. Of course, Taylor got a whole huge, luxury suite to herself. So that left Tom, Gafrash and I sharing a suite.

The problem was, there was only two beds.

"Meh," said Gafrash and shrugged, "Gafrash sleep tree. Tree good." Gafrash skipped off to the corner and jumped upon the tiny pot plant, thus almost killing the poor thing. He instantly began snoring and muttering about bark in his sleep.

&&&

I woke up. Well, not really. During the past hours, all I had really been doing was shutting myself off from the rest of the world and talking to Lourdes over the Chee-net. But a loud, quiet horrific broke me out of this state. I projected the holograph of myself in a way so it would look as if I was opening my eyes, and sat up.

Instantly, I noticed a few things out of place here. Tom was missing from his bed. And Gafrash was simply standing in the middle of the room, staring out towards the door which lead onto the balcony.

"Hey Gafrash," I whispered, "What's wrong?"

Gafrash simply pointed ahead towards the open doors which lead onto the balcony. I couldn't really see what exactly he was pointing at from this angle, so I got out of bed and stood beside him.

I was instantly able to identify the source of the noise. On the balcony, staring up at the stars, was Tom.

"What...what on earth is he doing!?" I whispered.

"I would prefer not to know," Gafrash replied in a whisper of unbroken English.

The more and more I strained to listen, the more the noise began to grow familiar.

"Is he – ?! Oh gosh, please don't tell me he's singing the Pokemon theme song!"

Gafrash just stared blankly ahead and said, "What has happened here tonight – it stays in this room. I swear android. We speak not a word of this."

We quickly went back to bed and pretended to sleep. That wasn't very easy though, considering next Tom went on to sing opera.

It was a long night.

&&&

Gafrash and I woke up the next morning, angry and sleep-deprived. Taylor had called a meeting in the hotel lobby at 9:00 am. Considering the amount of sleep Tom and I got last night, it wasn't exactly the best time. I mean, I'm an android. So I don't really need sleep. But all the same, I wasn't in the best mood.

"Yay! Today is going to be so fun!" Taylor said and did a little dance to herself.

"Yeah...right...." said Tom, sounding grumpy like he always does.

Gafrash tried to punch Tom from behind, but I grabbed his fist before it collided with Tom I shook my head disapprovingly.

Gafrash snorted angrily.

"Hey look!" squealed Taylor and pointed to a guy about Tom's age approaching, "There's our tour guide!"

Gafrash muttered something in Hork-Bajir which my translator chip wouldn't translate.

"Hello!" said the guy cheerfully, "Is this Miss Talesdale and her group?"

Taylor let out a long girlish squeal and grinned, "You're cute!"

I saw Tom smirk then whisper to me, "So how does it feel to be second favorite now, Erek?"

"Surprisingly wonderful."

Tom's happy expression dropped when he finally realized I was clearly not bothered by the fact that Taylor liked our tour-guide better than me.

"I'm your tour guide, Ronnie Chambers. If you would just follow me to my mini-bus, and we shall begin your tour."

Taylor squealed again and attempted to jump-hug Ronnie. Ronnie made a quick escape by walking as fast as his legs could carry him. Tom followed not far behind. At the back, like two stray sheep, were me and Gafrash.

"I'm getting the bizarre feeling that something is strangely out of place here," I said to Gafrash as we were walking to the bus, "But I just can't figure out what it is."

Gafrash shrugged, which looked sort of funny in the costume (again, cross dressed) that he was wearing. "Who knows what is considered normal and what is considered strange anymore," he said, "that all disappeared the moment we met Taylor."

&&&

The wind howled and the rain smacked hard against by face as I continued climbing – the Sydney Harbour bridge.

"Keep on going!" cheered Taylor happily, who was right behind the climbing instructor, over the vicious howl of the wind. She punched the air with her fist, "We're nearly there!" You could always rely on Taylor to book something one the worst possible day, and drag us along to witness it.

Tom, who was behind Taylor, shivered violently and cursed Ronnie Chambers, who was standing far down below next to the river. I didn't blame him. There was something about Ronnie's smug, happy little face which really ticked me off too.

I was behind Tom, and clinging to my back like some fussy child, was Gafrash.

"Gafrash," I said over the noise of the rain and wind, "It might have been a good idea that you told us that you were afraid of heights _before _we started the bridge climb."

"It is not my fault!" he protested, "Taylor said that if we did not do the bridge climb, then we would sit near the bank of the river and have some of her homemade potato salad instead!"

I shuddered. That was bad. But...how did she managed to make potato salad when we haven't had a chance to go shopping?

"But you're a Hork-Bajir!" I pointed out, "On your home planet, there would have trees two, maybe even three times as tall as the Sydney Harbour Bridge!"

"So?" he replied, shivering and soaking wet, "Not all Hork-Bajir enjoy climbing, android."

We had to endure the awfulness of the bridge climb in the middle of a storm for the next half an hour. When Taylor pointed out the view when we got to the top, the rest of us weren't even remotely interested. There was nothing enjoyable about this bridge climb, at all.

Once we had finished finished the bridge climb, everyone of our group (with the except of Taylor, who looked ecstatic) collapsed to the ground with exhaustion.

But I should look on the bright side – at least it had stopped raining and the sun had started shining again.

Taylor giggled madly. "Let's do that again!"

It began raining.

&&&

Luckily, goody two-shoes Ronnie managed to convince Taylor that it would not be a good idea to climb the bridge again. Instead, after much debating about what we should do next, Tom got his way and we went to a photo shop to get the film off Tom's camera made into photos. Unfortunately, the waiting time for this was two hours. As you could imagine, this didn't please Tom.

So during this time, Ronnie showed us the Opera House. It would have been nice, too. If Gafrash hadn't thrown up on it, resulting in the group walking away at a rather fast speed before anybody noticed the damage done to the Australian landmark.

Having still a quiet a while to waste until the film was ready, Taylor decided to give Ronnie a break and take us souvenir shopping. We ended up buying all sorts of wonderful pieces of rubbish. From kangaroo plushies to the fluffy koala-themed hat that Taylor _insisted _that I wear.

"Haha!" laughed Gafrash, "Erek look funny!"

"Do not..." I muttered with embarrassment.

It wasn't that they didn't look ridiculous themselves. Tom was wearing an oversize T-shirt with a picture of an emu on it, and Gafrash was wearing an undersized I Love Sydney T-shirt. However, it was Taylor who had the most junk in her possession. The list is so long, I'm not going to even start. But just trust me, our group just screamed "tourists."

Once the two hours were up, we all went to the camera shop to collect the film. Tom seemed very excited, but pretty impatient too. But that's Tom for you, I suppose.

"Gimme gimme gimme!" begged Tom in a manner that probably gave the poor Australian girl at the counter the the impression he was some kind of impatient lunatic.

The girl sighed and handed Tom the film then sat down next to her co-worker behind the counter.

"Bloody tourists..." I heard her whisper. Her co-worker nodded with agreement.

Tom ripped open the envelope and discarded it by giving it to Gafrash, who ate it. Gafrash grinned a satisfied grin, flakes of paper all around his mouth.

Tom removed the photos from the pack. He just stared. Then quickly, he shuffled through all the photos.

"No..." said Tom with astonishment, before screaming, "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"

"What?" I asked, "What is it?"

Tom's eyes were wide and his bottom lip trembled. It looks almost as if he was about to cry. "The photos..." he said and then sniffled, "They're all blank!"

"Every last one of them?!" I demanded.

"Every last one," Tom confirmed sadly.

It was weird how victory always seemed to just slip out of our grasp. This was the sixth mission we had gone on as a group. You would think that we would have succeeded by now. But there always seemed to be something that would stop us from achieving our goals.

I had my suspicions about who was meddling with the end results – The Ellimist. I could spend all day wondering why, but I probably shouldn't. It seems that any drama or disaster you see these days, you can count the Ellimist is somehow behind it.

"Oh well, life goes on!" said Taylor happily, "This just means we have more time to enjoy our holiday."

Tom ignored Taylor's rambling, and Gafrash had wandered off somewhere.

"I need some time alone..." Tom muttered and then sniffled, "I'm going to Kings Cross." Tom slowly walked off.

"Fine!" Taylor called out stubbornly, "We'll go shopping without you! Come on Erek, come on Gafrash!" Taylor began marching off in the direction of wherever she was going.

I silently groaned.

I then turned around to see Gafrash chewing on one of the employee's hair. The employee did not look happy, and was probably about two seconds away from calling security. I grabbed Gafrash's hand and we made a run for it.

&&&

The girl had chased us with a broom for quiet awhile. This caused quiet a commotion, and all the city goers watched curiously as we ran for our lives. The employee churned out all sorts of interesting words at us which I have never even heard being used before in the English language. They must be uniquely Australian or something.

May I just take the time to say that Gafrash is the most slowest, ungraceful Hork-Bajir I have ever come across. It would have been child's play for me to loose that girl, considering I can run over four times the speed of a cheetah. But Gafrash was very, very slow. He also managed to trip over five separate trash cans before we managed to loose the girl.

When I saw what where we were shopping, I realized it was fate worse that death for Gafrash and I. Being beaten up by an angry Australian girl with a broom would have been a lot fun than shopping with Taylor – at a huge, multi-level ladies clothes store known as "Supre."

Yeah, clothes shopping. Every guy's worse nightmare.

But there was no escaping now. Gafrash and I had to wait in the store, looking rather out of place among the packs of teenage girls. I'm not sure how many garments Taylor tried on. After about the twentieth garment I think we kind of lost count.

"I-Spy with my little eye, something beginning with... T?"

"Tights?" asked Gafrash.

I sighed. "How did you guess?"

"When you have used the same question three times already, it becomes rather easy from there."

And thus our long I-Spy game continued. There really wasn't much to I-Spy, actually. Besides from the packs of teenagers, tweenies, and the assorted collections of clothing. It was really quiet boring. Everything practically looped on like this for the next half an hour.

Until finally...

"Attention customers, we now have fifty percent off our pink summer dresses on floor two."

There was an excited scream from all the girls and a mad rush to get up the stairs. When they were all gone (including Taylor), the first floor was deserted.

"Well," said Gafrash, "At least it is quiet now."

"Yeah," I agreed and narrowed my eyes, "too quiet for it to be normal. Come on, we better see where Taylor has got to."

So we walked up the stairs. When we got up to story two, we were in for quiet a surprise. There was a whole swarm of girls gathered around a display table, chanting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" in their rather irritating Australian accents.

On the table, fighting to death over the last pink summer dress, was Taylor and Visser One.

Yes. You heard me correctly. Visser One.

"It's mine!" Taylor screamed, and yanked at the summer dress.

"No it's mine!" screamed Visser One, and in return yanked at the dress.

"Give it up, _acorn,_ the dressed is all mine!" Taylor screamed very, very loudly that all the windows were about to smash.

...Huh, acorn?

"Oh," I said with as I realized it. Gafrash gave me a funny look but then went back to staring at the sub-visser and Visser.

Oh yeah. The acorn. Well, about a month ago I got sick of all the awful words I have been hearing in human society. So, I enabled a filter which replaces these words with completely random, innocent words. Mind you, I can turn off the filter any time I want. I just don't think I really want to.

"Damn no, you _evaporating _son of an _acorn_!" Visser One screamed.

"Take that back!"

They both fell off the table and on to the floor. That didn't stop them, though. They continued their catch fight and remained as loud, kicking and screaming as ever.

"Mine!"

"No, mine!"

"Shouldn't we help separate them?" I asked Gafrash, who was standing their along with me and looking rather un-phased by the Visser and Sub-Visser's cat fight.

"We could," Gafrash said thoughtfully, "But if we value our lives, it is probably best to keep clear."

I nodded, "Good point."

Their fight was fairly non-dangerous. That is, until they began throwing clothing racks at each other. That was when somebody called security, who dragged a very mad, insane Taylor and a furious Visser One away from each other before they could harm the other more.

Taylor alone ended up causing over 4000 US damage to the store. Fortunately, the fee wasn't going to be a problem. This was because Taylor still had Visser Three's unlimited credit card. Whatever fee got sent through, it was the Council of Thirteen's problem now.

Oh, and if you're wondering what happened to the summer dress, well, Gafrash ate it.

&&&

We met up with Tom at Bondi Beach in the late afternoon. We were sitting at a cafe overlooking the beach, while discussing the day.

"I have photos!" he announced proudly, holding them up. He must have taken them while he was at Kings Cross.

I looked to see what the picture was of, and gasped. Quickly, I shoved my hands over Gafrash's eyes.

"Gafrash no see! Gafrash blind! AHHH!" called Gafrash.

"Block your ears, Gafrash," I commanded.

Gafrash blocked his ears obediently.

"Tom," I said slowly, "Why do you have a picture of Visser Three handing ten bucks to somebody in fishnet stockings on a stage?"

"Uhh..." Tom replied, "I, erh, thought it was a supermarket. I must have wondered into the wrong building."

I snorted, "Yeah, I bet you did." My voice dripped with sarcasm.

Tom frowned, "I'm telling the truth!" he protested weakly.

"I do not get it," stated Taylor as she stared at the photo with a look of puzzlement.

I shrugged, "I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. It should be enough to at least make Visser Three look bad."

It was then that the disaster that would ruin our victory showed up – a swooping ibis who snatched the photo right out of Tom's hands, and flew off.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Tom, and he made a desperate dash towards the low-flying bird, running through a massive crowd.

"Oh well," Taylor said happily once more, "I'm sure he'll get over it."

"I doubt it..." I muttered.

"So serious, Erek." Taylor shook her head. "But I know just what cheers up serious Yeerks...."

"...What?" I asked cautiously.

Taylor grinned a mad smile and said, "Potato salad with Vegemite!"

..._Toaster._

**A/N: A Non-cliffie. Oh well. For those who didn't get the last word, look back to when Erek was talking about the filter. I have a feeling I made quiet a few mistakes in this chapter, so please point them out. Suggestions? Ideas? Construction Criticism? Please let me know in your reviews! ;D **

**There is quiet a few references to Australian culture in this chapter, so I wrote down a list explaining most of them, just in case you were curious.**

**The Ibis Hotel – A change of hotels throughout Australia. I believe they also have them in New Zealand. Do they have the Ibis Hotel in America?**

**Ibis – a type of bird which is considered a pest in Australia. I've tried to find out if they were introduced or not, but I really can't find much information on it. So I just made up my own theory. But if anybody knows the true answer, please let me know.**

**There are surprisingly little ibises in Sydney (though I put one in my story anyway.) I think they prefer warmer parts of Australia.**

**Kings Cross – The red-light district of Sydney.**

**  
Supre – a real chain of stores in Australia. There is actually a giant one in Sydney, which is were the group were during one part in this chapter.**

**Bondi Beach – A famous beach in Sydney. Beautiful sand and water, but normally fairly crowded. It is also home to many cafes.**

**Vegemite - A spread often put on toast and sandwiches. If I remember correctly, the original purpose of it was to give more vitamins to patients in hospitals (so it was originally intended to be some sort of vitamin spread.) If you're wondering what it tastes like, think slightly similar to Marmite. **

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! If there was anything you found offensive in this chapter, please let me know. I'll try and update soon!**


	8. Dancing with the Vissers

**A/N: Hi everyone! Quick author's note, because I need sleep soon. Testing tomorrow D; Anywho, the idea of this chapter is based off a suggestion by Crazy Computer's Vendetta. Also, this isn't beta-read. Please point out mistakes, but remember, I'm not perfect ;D**

**Disclaimer: See the last several chapters.**

_Dancing with the Vissers_

(Erek's POV)

"Taylor has a new pet," Gafrash announced, his voice dripping with jealousy.

It was not long after we had arrived back from our trip from Australia. Besides from the incident where Tom's dream of exposing his photos to the Council of Thirteen where shattered by a swooping ibis, the rest of the trip was actually rather nice.

Ronnie Chambers had mysteriously disappeared after Taylor had dismissed him after Gafrash threw up on the Opera House. Until this day, what happened to him remains a mystery. Gafrash thought he got bark poisoning, Tom thought he was gunned down by a an echidna (an Australian animal which closely resembles a porcupine,) and Taylor thought he was cute. And I? I thought he just couldn't bare escorting a group of psychos any longer and made a run for it.

Thanks to a bad encounter at Sydney's Toronga Park Zoo, Tom now had a massive phobia of anything that looked remotely like an echidna. This includes anything from Mohawks to toilet brushes.

I glanced at Gafrash then quickly glanced over at Tom, who was watching something on the plasma screen. "Gafrash..." I said cautiously.

"He can't hear me," Gafrash said confidently, "He's become addicted to that television show "3rd Rock from the Sun." When the human mind is fixed on one thing in particular, it tends to zone out on all of the surroundings."

I frowned. "3rd Rock from the Sun?" I asked, "Isn't that that comedy show about aliens disguising themselves as humans and living on Earth?"

"Damn you Sally Solomon!" Tom screeched at the TV set with pure hatred, "That's not what aliens are like at all! We are not oblivious, stupid -" ...and so Tom's angry ranting continued.

"Yes," said Gafrash. "I believe it is."

We stared at Tom for a little while longer. By now, he was so angry he was digging his nails into the leather sofa. It was amusing. But at the same time, it was kind of sad.

"So," I began, "What were you saying about Taylor's new pet?"

"POTATO SALAD!" cheered Taylor, as she burst through the basement door and ran down the stairs. Gafrash jumped so high he nearly hit his head on the ceiling.

"Actually, I haven't made any potato salad yet," she said in an excited and hypoactive voice.

_Yet._ That was the word I feared.

"But I have got a new friend for Gafrash!" From behind her back, Taylor pulled out a cage. It was stuffed with straw, and even had one of those hamster wheels in it along with one of those upside-down drinking tube thingies.

"A hamster?" I guessed.

"Even better!" Taylor claimed, grinning an ecstatic grin.

Out from under the bed of straw emerged a white, fluffy rat with red eyes.

I narrowed my eyes, "You bought a rat?"

"He's a mouse!" protested Taylor. "Meet McWhiskers." She then ran over and placed McWhiskers and his cage on a side table (which sat directly under Gafrash's painting of the Mona Lisa.)

"And now, I am going to go and make some potato salad!" and with that, the nut-case sub-visser skipped back up the stairs and slammed the door.

Gafrash leered at McWhiskers and said maliciously, "Turfan ruttk earth shafor nukmah tresben." Which loosely translated as, "Rot in the depths of Father Deep, earth vermin."

((I thought that psycho would never leave. And for the last time, I AM A RAT! NOT A DAMN STINKING MOUSE!))

Gafrash and I froze stiff. We both turned quickly to looked at McWhiskers, who looked rather innocent sitting in that cage of his.

"Andalite!" exclaimed Tom, dramatically jumping off the sofa, flying through the air, and landing right in front of McWhiskers cage. Tom pointed an accusing finger at the mouse. "You're an Andalite! I heard your thought-speech!"

I smirked and shot Gafrash a sidewards glance, mouthing, "There goes your fixation theory."

After an exchange of numerous glances between Gafrash and myself, we decided if this was really an Andalite, then Tom shouldn't know about it. You just can't trust a Yeerk that power hungry.

"Did you hear something Gafrash?" I asked.

"Gafrash no hear! No noise Gafrash hear."

Tom spun around to face us. "Don't tell me you didn't hear it!" he gasped.

"Hear what?" I asked.

"Th-the mouse!"

((Rat,)) corrected McWhiskers.

"There!!! Hah!" shouted Tom crazily, "It did it again!"

"Did what?"

"Spoke! In the name of the Kandrona, it spoke!"

Gafrash and I both shot Tom a fake, "Are you some sort of loony?" look.

"Tom," I said cautiously, "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Tom hear things. Tom crazy like mommy Taylor," Gafrash said helpfully.

Tom looked utterly frustrated yet baffled at how we couldn't hear the supposed Andalite bandit.

"But it – it sp-" The look on Tom's face faded into passiveness. "I think I need a lie down..." he muttered quietly and walked up the basement stairs and closed the door. An awkward silence pursued.

((Great...)) muttered McWhiskers, ((I'm stuck with two more idiots who can't hear my thought-speech.))

"Excuse me!" exclaimed Gafrash, looking furious, "Don't call me an idiot! My IQ is equivalent to that of the human named "Einstein," you useless Earth vermin!"

The mouse, erh, I mean, rat, looked at Gafrash with wide, innocent eyes. ((Oh.))

"Why can't Taylor hear McWhiskers anyway?" I said out loud, curiously, "It's pretty hard to ignore something like thought-speech."

"Fixation," Gafrash claimed, "Taylor must have a stronger case than Tom. In this situation, Taylor is fixated on holding whatever tiny sanity she has left, therefor she is fixated on that one particular thing and blocks everything out."

"Oh. Well, that explains it...I guess."

((TALKING RAT HERE!!!)) screeched McWhiskers, ((Are you people deaf? And for the last time, MY NAME IS NOT MCWHISKERS!!!))

"Actually," I began, "That was the first time you told us off for calling you McWhiskers. So technically -"

McWhiskers let out a long, annoyed scream. I saw Gafrash grin. He must have been satisfied that the tables were now turned. McWhiskers hopped into his hamster wheel, and began running as fast as he can. Some kind of rodent stress ball, perhaps.

Also, I couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was something strangely familiar about the sound of McWhisker's voice. Though I was probably just imagining it. It had been a long week.

"So what's this supposed new plan of Taylor's?" I asked Gafrash casually.

Gafrash shrugged and was about to answer when -

((Oh, oh, I know!)) chimed out McWhiskers excitedly.

If Gafrash was holding a pencil at that moment, he would have snapped it from anger.

McWhiskers took Gafrash's ticked off expression as a sign to continue.

((That crazy girl called Taylor was talking to herself earlier. She said something about...uh, dancing. Yes, that was it.))

Gafrash and I looked at each other and turned pale in unison.

&&&

"Urgleth tahden," mumbled Gafrash under his breath, not looking very impressed by the fact that he was forced to wear a pink tutu.

"Yeah," I agreed, "This sucks."

Taylor had decided it would be a wonderful idea if we all went for dancing lessons. Of course, we didn't share her enthusiasm on this. Except for Tom...

"It's going to be so cool!" Tom exclaimed, prancing from side to side of the footpath, his pink tutu swishing gracefully in the wind.

Gafrash and I stared at him funny.

"Why are you so excited about this anyway?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh Erek," said Tom, sighing to himself in a wistful manner, "Sweet, clueless Erek."

Gafrash muffled what probably was a laugh and I tried everything I could not to kick his butt into next week. Wait...I can't anyway. Never mind.

"You may not know this about me," said Tom, before twirling on his toes, "But I long to dance!"

"I had no clue..." I muttered sardonically.

"We're here!" announced Taylor happily. In front of us, stood what appeared to be some sort of gymnasium. Or in other words, the venue for today's particular torture that Taylor was going to force our little club to endure.

Tom held out his hand to Taylor, as if he was demanding money. "Camera," he stated, in a very serious, no-joking-around tone.

"Ah yes," said Taylor. Out of her glittery handbag (which looked more like a dress-up assesory for a six year old rather than something someone Taylor's age should have) remove one of the weirdest, bulkiest cameras in history.

"Presenting, the ToughFlash 9000. Completely water proof, shock proof, dirty proof -"

"Hopefully barf-proof," I cut in, giving Gafrash a sidewards glance. Gafrash flushed red with anger.

Before I knew it, a dracon beam had appeared in Taylor's hand – and it was aimed for me.

Gafrash chuckled.

"You know I love you my little Erek-pie."

Erek-pie?

She narrowed her eyes dangerously, "But you know that you don't want to interrupt me. I didn't become a Sub-Visser for nothing."

"But didn't you get de-promoted?" asked Tom innocently.

And thus ended the rather short life-span of Tom's camera, who we later found out he had named Larry.

&&&

I was surprised this day hadn't ended already. Usually by the time Tom's camera had been stolen/eaten/fall down the toilet, the day has normally come to an end. But today, that wasn't the case at all.

"Now everybody," said the smiley, slightly annoying dance instructor which called herself Sandra, "Today we shall be learning the Tango! Isn't that wonderful?"

Yeah, right.

"Now first, we will need you to pick a partner."

"BAGS EREK!" squealed Taylor, and she jumped on me. Fortunately for me, since I'm made out of an assortment of heavy, alien metals, I didn't topple over like any weak human would have. Luckily the humans didn't notice anything.

"Yay! Me with Tom!" said Gafrash happily (or at least pretending to be.)

Tom just sniffled. The lost of Larry must have really been getting to him.

And it was then that the Vissers made an entrance.

Visser Three strutted (yes, I just said strutted) into the room, wearing...erh...Well, you know that tacky aerobics costume Madonna wore? Think of it as something like that. It was _not _a nice sight.

"ALL BOW DOWN TO THE MIGHT OF VISSER THREE AND HIS FLURO TIGHTS AND ADJUSTABLE LEG WARMERS!"

And yes, he just did say that.

All the people in the room stared at him. Probably in shock. The atmosphere was completely silent, except for sound of Gafrash chewing on something.

"What are you staring at, weak humans?!" Visser Three demanded angrily, and settled his pink gym bag on the floor, "Am I not dressed correctly for the pointless human past-time of dancing?"

Silence.

"He looks like Madonna," called one random person from the back of the room.

It was then that Visser One made her entrance. The doors flung open, and she walked calmly in, wind blowing her black hair. Her red dress shone in the bright midday sun, which was coming from the windows. Numerous bird whistled were heard from the crowd.

It was then that the Vissers noticed each other's presence. I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later.

"VISSER ONE?!"

"MADONNA!?"

Visser Three frowned, utterly puzzled. "What is this "Madonna" that I keep on hearing of? Is it some sort of human cuisine?"

"Alrighty!" exclaimed Sandra happily, "Now that you two know each other, you can be partners! Isn't that wonderful?!"

"WHAT?!" exclaimed the two Vissers at the exact same time.

Sandra ran over to the radio, and turned it on. Unfortunately, the song that came on was screamo music. Sandra didn't seem to mind, though. She just simply ran to the front of the room and began barking out orders.

"Hand around your partner!"

"And step one, two three four!"

"TWIRL!"

"LUNGE!"

"What is even the point of this class?" I asked Taylor, as we swayed back and forth. Taylor was grinning deliriously, looking like some crazed fan-girl who was dancing with her favorite celebrity.

"Because it's fun, silly!"

Ugh.

I stared over at Gafrash and Tom, who under unfortunate and sort of sad circumstances had forced to be partnered. Neither of them looked very happy.

Gafrash had a "let's just get this over with" face, and Tom's face was stiff and emotionless due to the loss of his late camera, Larry.

"And lunge, and KISS!" shouted Sandra enthusiastically.

Crap.

&&& Awful third person view! Woo!&&&

Erek lunged alright. He lunged right out of there, running at speeds well over what seemed possible for any human. And miraculously, Taylor managed to keep up.

"Come back my little Erek-pie!" Taylor screamed madly, and made a kissy-face, "Let me kiss you!!!"

Gafrash lunged in Tom's arms. Tom, who had supposedly broken out of his melancholy, leaned over, and closed his eyes so he could his Grafrash.

"Tom breath stinky," stated Gafrash. The Hork-Bajir was desperate to get out of the sticky situation.

Tom simply frowned and dropped Gafrash.

"GAFRASH!" exclaimed Gafrash angrily.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Visser Three and Visser One were arguing.

"There is no way I that I will kiss that repulsive human-lover!" Visser Three exclaimed, pointing a finger at Visser One just to make sure everybody knew who she was.

Visser One gasped. "This?! Coming from an arrogant Andalite-lover?!"

"I'm not arrogant!"

"Yes you are!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

This probably would have, alas, continued all day if Erek, who was still being chased by Taylor, accidentally ran into Visser Three during all the chaos. The Vissers were in an intense argument at the time, and neither of them expected they being rammed into. Visser Three tumbled forward. But instead of his head smashing against Visser One's, which would probably involve the usage of some Yeerk swear words which contain over ten letters, their lips smashed.

Tom was just plain frustrated by this. It probably had something to do with the fact that he didn't have a camera to take photos of the it with. The Vissers locking lips (whether it be by accident or on purpose) was pure gold, and would have surely gotten Tom a very high ranking. So due to his utter frustration, Tom screamed violently and ran towards the door.

...Only he missed and ran into the wall instead.

The Vissers finally pulled back from the other's passionate embrace. Both of their faces were red (this time, probably from embarrassment more than anger) and they both looked at the other intensely. before they pulled back and pretended nothing had happened.

Gafrash, who had been observing the whole chaotic ordeal from afar, just sighed and wondered why he hadn't acquired world domination already.

&&& Back to Erek's POV, YAY! &&&

((Have fun?)) asked Mr. Whiskers, as we returned to the club room.

"Rat...spoke..." Tom muttered, his words almost inaudible. He then fell over (he was still dizzy from running into a wall) and passed out on the sofa.

"I'm going to get some potato salad, that'll cheer us all up. Yipee!"

Taylor happily skipped up the stairs, somehow still full on energy despite putting all her energy into chasing me less than an hour before.

"No," I replied, once Taylor had gone, "Not fun at all."

"You thought it was not fun?" Gafrash demanded, looking astounded. He pointed towards a snoring Tom. "I almost had to kiss _that._"

((I will never complain about my life being stuck on a rock in the middle of the ocean again.))

Rock...ocean...rat...why did these words hit close to home? I was an android, for crying out loud! I was meant to have flawless memory!

I sighed. "Well, at least this whole episode is over, hopefully giving us time to recover before we go off on our next crazy adventure."

"But Erek," said Taylor, who had spookily appeared at the top of the stairs and was holding a bowl of...bleh...potato salad. "This episode is only just beginning."

&&&

It could have been a nice, quiet day after that. I could have escaped the club, and fled to the tiny but exotic little islands of Tuvalu and spent the rest of my long life drinking coconut milk by the beach. But life is harsh, and never gives anybody such privileges. Especially an android who deserves it.

Taylors latest crazy idea (the second in one day) had taken us to the arcade at the mall. And what three words did she have in mind?

_Dance Dance Revolution._

I was lucky. I was spared from having a go. Tom was too. Taylor was able to wake him after he passed out on the sofa. Maybe we should have been at least a little concerned about that. But hey, he could have been faking.

Gafrash? Not lucky. At all.

Gafrash swayed side to side, trying to beat Taylor at the fast-moving dancing game. Unfortunately, as I have mentioned previously, Gafrash isn't the most fast and agile Hork-Bajir alive. Taylor won – by 3000 points.

"Yay!" shouted Taylor happily, "I won! I won! I won!"

Gafrash cowered in shame and slowly made his way to the opposite side of the arcade, so he could go and mope to himself about how awful he was at everything. Or maybe search for some bark. One could never be sure.

Taylor turned around to the massive crowd which had been observing the game.

"Who next wants to take on me, SUB-VISSER TAYLOR THE AMAZING!"

An old man with a long, white beard stepped up to the dance platform. Why did he look familiar.

Taylor grinned, "An old human? This will be easy."

Taylor lost by 5000 points.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Taylor roared, then burst into tears, "I can't have lost! I'm the most super-awesome dancer in the whole entire universe." And with that, she ran off into the distance.

Another guy stepped up next to the old man. He looked about in his late forties, had dark hair, an eye patch (maybe he was a pirate?) and was wearing red contact lenses.

"Misty," he said acidly, glancing at the old man.

"Ray Yak," replied the old man, with an equal amount of venom in his voice.

Something was hitting a little to close to home here...

And then the game began. They both danced furiously. Flawlessly.

"CHEATER!" exclaimed Ray Yak, "You used your powers to manipulate the universe so you could win by one MEASLY POINT! You meddling twit!"

Misty grinned, "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't."

And that was when a fight broke out.

I sat on the bench and stared ahead blankly, trying to figure out where the serious case of deja vu was coming from.

"It's a sad thing, huh?" asked a lady who was sitting next to me who I hadn't noticed until now.

"What is?" I asked curiously.

"Everything. How fan fiction authors continue to mutate the original plot, until everything seems to loose meaning."

"Uh-huh," I replied, not sounding very interested.

The lady took it as a sign to continue, "And Mary-Sues. Oh, don't get me started. Now sure, fan fiction is a form of flattery, but -"

"Rightio," I replied, before the lady could even finish her sentence. Ray Yak and Misty were now getting dragged away by mall cops. Though that nagging sense wouldn't go away, it was still rather amusing to watch some old guy and red-eyed pirate get dragged away from each other.

The lady sighed to herself. "You're very OOC, Erek. You know that?"

I snapped my head towards her. "How do you know my name?"

She smiled, "You wouldn't believe me. Say hi to the Animorphs for me."

And with that, she walked off, leaving one very confused android sitting on a bench.

**A/N: MYSTERY NON-CLIFFIE! I'll leave the rest to your imagination. So, how did you all like the chapter? Please review and let me know! I don't think it's as good as my last chapter, but at least I tried! ;D Goodnight!**


	9. Kindergarten Catastrophe

**A/N: Short author's note. I'm tired and need sleep.**

**  
And so here it stands, and a whopping 19 pages long! The next chapter of the Visser Humiliation Club! There is bound to be a few mistakes in this one. But please remember, I'm only human. And this is, after all, 19 pages long. **

_Kindergarten Catastrophe _

"Checkmate."

Gafrash looked very irritated that I had beaten him in chess for the sixth time in the row.

It was about a week or so after Taylor dragged us off to dancing lessons, and we were all busy hanging out in the club house (aka Taylor's basement.) Since then, things about been quiet. Luckily so, too. I didn't think any of us had a strong enough will to endure anything quiet as horrific again so quickly – or at all, for that matter.

"Beginner's Luck," huffed Gafrash. I wanted to input something about how I was ten times smarter than a chess computer, but decided against it since Tom, and the mysteriously, somehow-familiar-possibly-Andalite-nothlit McWhiskers were in the room.

Where was Taylor, you ask?

Nobody had any clue. She had called us here a couple of hours ago. We had been waiting for ages now. Taylor always seemed to do that. Illogically, she would call us over to her place but then simply disappear off the face of the earth. Not that I was complaining, or anything.

"Lunch time," said Tom unenthusiastically as he opened the cupboard and took out a box of "Mice-o-nibbles." And before you say anything, _no, _that was not Tom's lunch. You see, ever since...well, yesterday; Tom and Taylor made an agreement. Tom agreed to feed McWhiskers his lunch when Taylor wasn't around, and Taylor...I'm not exactly sure about what her side of the bargain was about. When I asked Tom about it, all he said was: "Sea urchins."

Tom reached in to fill up McWhisker's bowl. Gafrash simply smirked, pleased by how degrading it was for his arch-nemesis to eat Mice-o-nibbles when he wasn't even a mouse. Or to eat pet food at all, I suppose.

((Yum, Garlic flavor!))

"AH!" yelped Tom in surprise, as he dropped McWhisker's bowl and fell back. "Mouse...spoke! Erek, Gafrash, don't tell me that you didn't hear it!"

((R-A-T! Rat! I don't know how many times I have to tell you!)) whined McWhiskers.

"Tom hear thing no there. Tom stupid, mouse stupid," Gafrash explained to a very pale-faced Tom. Perhaps it wasn't the most smartest move. Tom didn't really seem to mind Gafrash's words, though. After a while of being mocked by Gafrash, he seemed to treat the whole thing with a sense of passiveness.

McWhiskers, however, did not see the funny side of things.

((STUPID?!)) His voice screeched in thought speech. Tom dropped to the ground like a sack of wet cement. The thought of a talking mouse, that was really a rat, that was actually an Andalite, that nobody could hear except him, that screamed and cursed in thought speech, must have been all too much for his Yeerk-mind to comprehend.

"You heard me, dirty earth _Rutkk. _Your brain is the size of a pea, and your IQ is unmentionable."

((Unmentionable?!)) demanded McWhiskers, ((I am not the one who spends most of their time speaking in broken English, Yeerk.))

"That makes an interesting question arise," I began.

Gafrash shot me a dirty looked, "Erek..." he warned.

"About using the term "Yeerk" towards you," I clarified, "Tom may think you are a controller. Taylor may think you're a controller, too. But I don't think it's actually been confirmed whether you are a controller. Other than that, I don't think anybody really knows much about you..._Kaddy._"

"No!" Protested Gafrash, "You did _not _just crudely alter my first name!"

McWhiskers muffled a laugh, ((Kaddy? As in a gold caddy?))

"Fine!" exclaimed Gafrash, "I will tell you, on the condition that you do not use that monstrosity mutation of my name ever again!"

But of course, before myself or the talking rat had a chance to agree, the moment just had to be interrupted by Taylor, who had decided not go barging through the door the moment we really did not want her to go barging through the door. What, I ask, were the chances?

"I'm baaaaaack!" exclaimed Taylor happily, and she ran down the stairs with a pot of ugh...potato salad, in her hands. Once down the stairs, she spotted Tom and simply said, "Silly Tom! Now is no time for a nap!"

Tom groaned and rolled on one side.

((Oh great,)) muttered McWhiskers sarcastically, ((The loony is back.))

Of course, Taylor couldn't hear Gafrash. So she didn't reply.

I sighed. "Okay Taylor," I said, "Let's just get this over with. You'll tell us the incredibly insane plan, give Tom a camera, and hopefully I'll be out of here by six so I can watch a documentary on TV about advanced robotics in Japan."

Gafrash snorted.

"But Erek, our plan doesn't start until tomorrow!" she said happily, "Isn't that great? We have time to prepare!" Yeah, and I also had time to remember the failure of a mission I was meant to go on for the next twenty-four hours or so.

About five minutes later, Tom had woken up. This was probably because Taylor had announced that she was serving up potato salad. My theory is that this shocked Tom's body awake. Fortunately yet unfortunately at the same time, when Taylor had realized Tom had woken up she forgot all about the potato salad and began to tell us about the mission.

"Tomorrow, Visser Three and Visser One will be volunteering at a Kindergarten."

For one, the though of such thing was quiet comedic. Second... "How does that work out?" I asked, "I'm honestly curious, Taylor. I've been trying to figure out how you do it, but I just can't. How do you always get the Vissers to arrive at the same place at roughly the same time?" So what, if I wanted more answers today than usual. The whole thing was really starting to get to me.

"An old man that always sits at the same bench in the park every morning organizes it all for me."

"He isn't the same guy who beat you at Dance Dance Revolution, is he?"

Taylor gasped, "Hey! He is! Well, how about that!" She then scowled, "He owns me a rematch..."

I sighed. There was something not right about that old man. And the pirate. And the lady. Even McWhiskers. But for some reason, I couldn't place my finger on just what that something was. It all seemed somehow just out of my grasp. It was certainly strange. As an android, I should be able to figure such connections out without any difficulty.

"Well," said Taylor, a mad but ecstatic look on her face, "Everyone rest up! We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. Which reminds me, I better pack some potato salad to we won't get hungry. Yay!"

&&&

The next morning was when disaster struck. Well, it usually would have been a disaster. But since it gave me a perfect reason _not _to turn up the club house, I was happy.

My hologram had screwed up, somehow causing me to be stuck in the form of a five-year-old child. I had tried changing it. The other Chee had done all they could to help. But it was no use. No matter what we tried, I couldn't change back to my usual projection.

I wasn't overly concerned, though. This wasn't the first time sometime like this had happened. Usually the scientists within the Chee just pondered on it for a few more days or so then figured out a solution. Easy peasy.

"Awww," the Chee who was playing my father, Chee-Ludos, cooed, "Aren't just so _cute!_"

"Shut it," I retorted angrily, "Or I'll remind you about the time about the Mesopotamia incident."

Chee-Ludos went quiet and walked away obediently.

No sooner had he done so, when the doorbell rang. I sighed. "I'll get it."

As soon as I opened the door, I was greeted by the loud, gleefully greeting of, "IT'S MY LITTLE EREK-PIE!" If my sight had been cut off then, I would have imagined it to be some of the other Chee who had come over just for the sole purpose of poking fun of me. That had that much free time. But instead, I was greeted by a blond-haired five-year old girl, a little boy with brown hair who looked roughly about the same age, and what looked like a miniature version of the green goblin.

It took me a second to figure out the connection.

"Taylor? Tom? Gafrash?!" I demanded.

The blond haired girl, which I presumed was Taylor, waved, "Hi my little Erek-pie! I bought potato salad!" She held up a bowl proudly.

"Uhh..." I said, not really sure how to reply. I looked at Tom, demanding an answer.

Tom just shrugged and said in a shrill voice, "We woke up and we were human children. Apparently nutso over here," He gestured towards Taylor, "Doesn't seem to see anything wrong with that."

"Heehee," giggled Taylor madly.

Gafrash looked exasperated, did what is called a "face-palm," and slowly slid the hand down his face. He was probably trying to demonstrate his pain with and hatred for the situation without resulting to spoken language.

"Let's go!" said Taylor excitedly, "I'll drive!"

Gafrash jerked his head up in alarm and Tom turned the same, pale shade he normally does when he's scared for his life.

"Maybe we should...uh...take the bus instead," I insisted, "You know, save fuel."

"Aww, isn't my little Erek smart!" Taylor cooed, "Wanting to save fuel which we could easily obtain anyway once Earth is conquered, because the Council of Thirteen have ordered oiling procedures to begin on planet Tatooine."

Tatooine? As in Tatooine from Star Wars? Wait, I don't even want to know...

&&&

The bus ride to the Kindergarten was long, and uneventful. Whilst we were riding, the bus remained pretty much empty. This was mainly because whoever was about to get on looked and saw Gafrash, who was still surprisingly tall for a young Hork-Bajir, and made a run for it.

This did nothing to improve Gafrash's mood. Though it did give Tom quiet a few laughs when he saw the looks on the humans' faces. I have to admit, some of their reactions were pretty amusing. But I didn't want to get on the wrong side of Gafrash or anything.

There came a time in the bus trip where Tom had fallen asleep, his head gently tilted back and mouth left gaping open, making grunting and snoring noises every once and awhile. Taylor was also occupied, as she was listening to her MP3 player and was singing some weird, unusual song to herself. The song seemed very out of place in a way, as if it belonged in the future and not the present time. But maybe I was looking too much into it.

This left just Gafrash and I unoccupied, so naturally I had to ask Gafrash about his take on what was happening.

"So Gafrash," I began casually, "Any idea why we all look like preschoolers?"

Gafrash sighed, "Do you think I know, android? No, of course I don't. I, myself, have been trying to figure it out all morning." He frowned a Hork-Bajir frown. "And what about you? Do or do you not have the ability to change your hologram?"

"It got stuck..." I muttered.

"Ah," said Gafrash, but looked sort of concerned at the same time, "Then this obviously not some sort of coincidence."

"What I can't get around is why we are still doing this," I admitted, "Taylor is insane, but she's not stupid. Not that we know of, anyway. You'd think if we all magically turned into five year-olds -"

Gafrash interjected me. "Actually android, I believe my exact age in human years would be about 0.5. Hork-Bajir grow rather faster than human infants."

I sighed, "Yes Gafrash, that's lovely. As I was saying, if we all magically turned into five year-olds over night, then you would think Taylor would be smart enough to call off this little excursion. We're meant to be volunteering to help kids at a kindergarten, not the other way around."

"Yes, I must concur. Though, it seems that there is nothing we can do about it. Perhaps we should just simply sit back and endure it."

As the blurry scenery passed outside the bus, Tom made gurgling noises and Taylor sung loudly to yet another modern pop song, I had to wonder how much longer I could endure _any _of this for. And as I looked at Gafrash, who sighed, his face worn and tired, I knew he was wondering the exact same thing.

&&& **My name is... **&&&

When we arrived at Happy Fields Kindergarten, we were greeted by a teacher who automatically assumed we were new students, and ushered us inside.

In other words, we were not seen as volunteers as Taylor first intended. In fact, it turned out that only one volunteer had turned up that day – a weird girl who sat in the corner of the room, typing away on a laptop and grinning to herself every once in a while, as if she had just typed the funniest thing in the world. It was pretty clear that she wasn't going to be at all helpful as a volunteer.

"Good morning everyone!" said a teacher with a smile so bright, it could blind you. "I'm Miss McClean -"

Before she could say anything more, Gafrash, Tom and I burst out in a chorus of giggles. A bit immature, perhaps. But you have to admit it was kind of funny how the lady shared the same last name as a brand of toothpaste. I was quiet frankly surprised that Tom even got the reference. Maybe he watched more TV than I thought.

Taylor, however, didn't get it. She blinked and stared ahead blankly.

Miss McClean waited patiently until we were finished giggling. "We don't like loud people in our class," she said gently, though it was probably meant to be some sort of warning, "Please be quiet, or I'll send you to the naughty corner for a time out."

If nothing else had shut us up, then that certainly did.

Since everybody was now said silent, Miss toothpa- I mean, McClean, continued on with what she was originally saying. "Now today class, we have some new students. May the new students please stand up."

Taylor, Gafrash and I stood up, along with two other students. One was a weak-looking boy, with a shaved head and who was wearing a business suit. The other was a Hispanic girl, with curly dark hair and determined-looking eyes. I could already guess who they were...

"Now please new students, tell your fellow students your name and a bit about yourself."

The boy in the suit went first.

"I am Visser Three, the all mighty ruler of earth. One day I shall abolish all stupid human learning centers like this one and turn them into Yeerk Pools." He sat down.

"My name is Visser One," said the girl calmly, "I am the ruler of the galaxy, unlike Esplin over there," she pointed towards Visser Three, "Who can not even begin to compare to my greatness."

All the kids made impressed, "Oooooh," sounds and muttered amongst themselves.

Gafrash went next. "Me Gafrash. Bark good."

Miss McClean frowned at the mini salad shooter. "It seems that you may need a bit of extra help, Gafrash. Will go over there and see Mrs. Leonards?" She pointed towards a smiling lady in the corner.

Gafrash looked so outraged, that I had never even seen him look such a way before. His expression summed up about a dozen Internet terms, including the infamous "zomg" and "wtf." He looked like he was going to decapitate the women for her even mentioning the idea of himself receiving learning support.

Fuming with rage, Gafrash made his way towards Mrs. Leonards, muttering something in Hork-Bajir under his breath which I'm sure were cuss words.

Taylor went next. "I'm Taylor, and we-I have a cool hand," she said happily, and waved to everybody with her prosthetic hand. The kids all murmured to themselves about how cool her hand was, and how they wanted one. Taylor sat down.

Tom stood up. "Hello...I'm Tom. And I _did _like basketball, until I realized that bouncing an inflatable rubber ball around with other humans was stupid. In my free time, I enjoy reading guys magazines which features loads of pictures of attractive earth females in bikinis."

Well, looked like that sorted out Gafrash and I's bet. Gafrash, for some reason, was convinced Tom was gay. I would have to remind Gafrash by the end of this little field trip that he owed me twenty bucks.

The kids all muttered among themselves.

"Miss, what's a bikini?" asked a child innocently. The teacher looked as if she was almost too startled to reply. She eventually got her head together, though. "Oh...nothing." She shot Tom a look of pure venom. Tom returned the leer with a look of pure confusion.

"My name is Erek," I said. I could have gone into all the detail like I was older than the pyramids and how I had such great knowledge that even Miss Toothpaste couldn't match up to. But I decided against it. Instead, I summed it up nicely. "I like building blocks."

All the kids nodded to each other, as if I had just said something very profound. It was true, that last time I was playing the role of a preschooler, I made a structure out of building blocks so high, that it almost touched the ceiling. I had also calculated the area of the class room and "accidentally" left my working out on the board. After that, the kindergarten teachers decided I was much more suited to a higher level.

&&& **Arts and Crafts Time** &&&

Next was arts and crafts time. A very angry Gafrash was sitting next to me, drawing a violent, vibrant picture with some crayons. I was busy molding a replica of the Eifle Tower out of play-doe.

"So the Vissers were turned to kids too, huh?" I muttered, "Why aren't I surprised."

Gafrash didn't reply. Instead, he continued to harshly scribble on the page.

"Come on Gafrash," I sighed, "You're not still angry about the learning support thing, are you? Remember, we're only here for a day."

Gafrash looked furious. "If it is one day or not is not the point! My pride, my dignity, it wall all taken away by this dreadful place . And while Mrs. Leonards asked me what color oranges were or how to say, "My name is Gafrash. I like Bark," I was quoting Shakespheare in my head, and at the same time being amazed by the lady's stupidity."

"Yeah, Shakespeare always helps me calm down too," I admitted. A new realization then dawned on me. "Gafrash, why hasn't Mrs Leonards come out of the learning support room?"

Gafrash looked up innocently from his crayon drawing and grinned.

"Oh god, you didn't decapitate her, did you?"

"No, of course not," Gafrash said. I sighed with relief. "Too many witness," he then said, "let's just hope nobody opens the dress-up cupboard."

A rather large child then walked up and sat next to Gafrash. "I'm Billy," he said happily, "Mommy says I'm not allowed to go near play-doe any more, because when I did I could some stuck up my nose and it hurt and I cried and it was not very funny."

Gafrash froze, and looked rather disturbed.

"Well, I'm off to see what everyone else is doing," I claimed, and made a bolt for it.

"EREK!" screeched Gafrash, "Don't you dare leave me!"

"Sorry!" I called back from about five feet away, "can't hear you. Too noisy." Gafrash shot me a death glare, which I ignored and then proceeded on.

I next came across Tom. Miraculously, he has seemed to have made a friend. The two boys were making food out of play-doe. "Eat it! Or I...I won't me your friend anymore!" protested the blond-haired boy to Tom. He shoved the clump of doe towards Tom. Tom was stuck at a crossroad at his life. Eat the doe cookie, or lose a friend. Tom sighed, opened his mouth, and took a big bite.

What Tom didn't know what that I had an inbuilt video camera, and was recording it. Just in case, you know, I need something to blackmail Tom with. You never know when that stuff comes in handy...I had enough footage to embarrass George Washington for a lifetime. Though it was never released. Probably for the better, too...

Taylor was busy socializing with a group of five year olds. Strangely enough, she seemed right in place amongst them.

"And this is my hand," she said, as she held up her prosthetic hand, "I'm thinking about getting an automatic rifle built into it." All the kids ooohed and aaaahed. Well, except for Visser One. She just simply sat there and looked very unimpressed.

"That's nothing," Visser One said. She then began ruffling through her bag, until she pulled out an expensive looking perfume bottle and showed it off to the group of wide-eyed girls. "This is my perfume," she said proudly, "It cost me a hundred and twenty bucks, and it's Calvin Klein."

Somehow I doubted the kids would have known what Calvin Klein was, but they seemed impressed anyway. All of a sudden, all the attention Taylor was receiving went elsewhere, as all the girls were star-struck by the Visser's perfume.

"It shiny!"

"That's way cooler than a hand!"

"I want a smell!"

Taylor looked shocked. "But...but...everybody is supposed to be looking at me! Because I have a cool hand...."

It seemed as though nobody even heard what Taylor said. They just kept chattering away about how cool the perfume was and how in the next games of Kings and Queens, the Visser should be queen.

"LOOOOOOOK AT MEEEEEEEE!" screeched Taylor abruptly.

All the kids went quiet and looked at Taylor.

Visser One stood up. "Do you have a problem?"

Taylor stood up, her fist clenched and a very angry scowl on her face. "I just about to ask you the same question."

The Visser shrugged. "Nope. I don't have a problem. After all, I'm not the one wearing that hideous T-Shirt."

And that was, of course, when a fight broke out. Taylor aimed a punch at the Visser, the Visser dodged, kicked...the whole thing literally looked like one of those animated white-smoke fight scene things that appear in cartoons. It was that full-on. The two were rolling along the floor, screaming, clawing and pulling the other's hair.

The group of girls, being immature five-year-olds as they were, found this act highly amusing. They weren't very helpful in resolving the matter, as they just stood there and cheered on the Vissers.

When Miss McClean finally ran in to help, she couldn't do much. Besides get kicked in the chin by a very angry Taylor who then screamed, "Stay out of this, _acorn!_" Miss McClean looked startled and stood back. She appeared to be the only teacher on duty. Mrs Leonards might have been, if she wasn't still hanging around in the dress-up cupboard.

I sighed, wondering what the world was coming to, and walked on.

I then came across Visser Three. He, out of all the people in the room (including Gafrash), seemed to be the most degraded then. He was curled up in a ball in the corner, muttering to himself how it all be "okay" and how being stuck in a facility for young humans was all just a "dream." He was on the edge of paranoia and insanity. As weird as it sounds, I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit sorry for that violent, malicious creep.

Not far from Visser Three, was the only volunteer to turn up. She seemed almost oblivious to everything around her, as she sat there and twiddled her thumbs and muttered things to herself. Flinching, she grinned and if she was in a cartoon, a light bulb would have appeared above her head. Spinning around on the spin-able chair, she embraced her computer once more and began typing furiously on the keyboard. She then stopped, frowned, and hit the backspace key.

It was as though the whole universe was crumbling down, and all I could do was simply stand and stare as catastrophes and havoc were wreaked all around me.

&&& **Lunch Time!!! **&&&

Lunch was next.

Taylor had demonstrated how her hand was useful for eating Cheese-rings, because if she accidentally bit her own hand, her hand would feel any pain because it was prosthetic. Unfortunately for Taylor, she forgot about the pain her teeth would feel if it bit into the hard plastic of her prosthetic hand. Miss McClean had to take a sniffling Taylor inside, because Taylor insisted that her wonderful, beautiful, shiny teeth were "seriously injured" and needed "urgent medical attention."

Visser One wasn't getting much attention anymore. Mainly all she was doing was complaining that somebody had stolen her expensive Calvin Klein perfume. Of course, nobody likes a winer. Or a scary, mean, Visser either. The kids were young, but not stupid. They knew it would be best to keep their distance from her until she cooled down.

Tom still appeared to be with the little blond haired kid from earlier.

"You're a alien!" said the blond-haired. I couldn't help but mentally cringing, noticing he had said "a" instead of "an."

"Erh, me?" asked Tom, looking a bit startled, "No...why would think that?"

"She told me," he said, pointing at the volunteer. She had relocated outside (we were all eating outside) with her laptop, and was sitting by herself on the far-end table. Unphased as ever, it was kind of hard to believe that the volunteer had said a single word at all, let alone bother to tell a little kid that Tom was an alien.

Tom narrowed his eyes. "Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," confirmed blond-haired seriously, and they held out their pinkies and exchanged a shake. I had to stop myself from laughing at the plain lameness of it all.

Tom shot me a glance, and motioned me over. I nodded, and walked over to the duo.

"What's up?" I asked. Of course, I already knew what Tom was going to tell me. It's just the fact that Tom thinks I'm a human, and humans don't have exceptionally good skills at over-hearing other people's conversations from afar.

"According to Tom," said Tom.

"According to you?" I cut in.

Tom shook his head, "No," he said, and pointed to blond-haired boy, "his name is Tom too."

"Oh. Proceed."

"See that volunteer over there?"

"What about her?"

"She thinks I'm an alien."

I forced a sarcastic laugh. "An alien?" I repeated mockingly, "Now why would she think that?"

Tom had a really serious look on his face. I silenced myself.

"Let's just keep our distance from her, okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Not like its going to be too hard or anything. All she does it stare at the computer screen and occasionally mutter to herself."

"She also said," began Tom (the blond-haired one,) excitedly, "That you were an android!" He pointed a finger at me.

I jerked back in surprise.

_Don't panic Erek, _I told myself. Surely Tom wasn't brainwashed so much as he would believe everything he hears.

**Two days earlier...**

Taylor had gone out a few hours ago, yet she somehow insisted that the group stay at the clubhouse so we could have some time to "bond" and enjoy the free potato salad she left us. I'm not sure what happened to the potato salad. I think Gafrash tried to feed it to McWhiskers in an attempt to give him food poisoning.

But of course, McWhiskers wasn't stupid. He didn't end up even touching the stuff. So Gafrash had to march upstairs, and disposed of it up there. My guess is he flushed it down the toilet. Which is actually a lot easier said than done, considering how tall Gafrash is. When he walks in the upper part of the house, his head blades scrape the ceiling.

During this whole fiasco, Tom was busy watching a re-run of Third Rock from the Sun. That is, until the phone rang. Gafrash, Tom and I had done scissors, paper, rock sometime ago, to determine who would answer the club phone if it was to ring. Tom had lost, leaving Gafrash and I without just one more small burden that the club gives up. By small, I mean that it wasn't like the phone was going to ring very often. So far it hadn't even rung once. Maybe it was disconnected. Or maybe, and more probable, nobody had our number.

So you can imagine our shock when the phone did happen to ring that day.

((Huh, it actually rung,)) said McWhiskers, as he ruffled around throughout the hay of his cage.

I saw the left side of Tom's mouth spasm, as he knew once more that the rat had spoke, but if he said anything nobody would have believed him.

I would have liked to see Gafrash's reaction to the club phone (which Tom had affectionately named "Broom" after a car in a children's TV show,) but he was still busy upstairs, trying to flush potato salad down the toilet. Taylor would have to call a plumber once he was done.

Tom hesitantly reached over to the coffee table and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

A long silence ensured. Whoever was on the other end have captured Tom's attention. I wasn't sure if I should be worried about that...

"Oh, of course! Thank you!" Tom churned out gleefully.

"Tom, mind telling us whats going on?" I asked impatiently.

"One moment," Tom said to the person on the other end. He left the phone hanging, then began speaking.

"This man says he knew my dear old Uncle Sam -"

"You have an Uncle called Sam?" I asked in amazement.

((Holy Crap-e-mole,)) commented McWhiskers. And if you were wondering, "Crap-e-mole" was pronounced so that it rhymed with "guacamole." Yeah, I have no clue where an Andalite got that from...

"No, I don't," Tom admitted, "But who cares! This guy says that he's left me $100 000 000 inheritance, and all I have to do is simply tell him my credit card details!"

"Its probably a scam," I said, "after all, we already have an unlimited credit card."

"But who cares!" Tom cheered again, "I've inherited $100 000 000!!!"

((And Gafrash says _I _am stupid.))

"Yeah," I replied, "Guess he was a bit off track there."

And you know what, Tom was so ecstatic that he didn't notice that McWhiskers and I had struck up a conversation about his own stupidity.

&&&

"Erek," Tom said seriously, "is there something you would like to tell me?"

"No," I lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I am sad to say that Tom did not look convinced.

I sighed, "Just because that weird, computer-obsessed volunteer thinks I am an android, doesn't necessarily make her right."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Necessarily?" he asked suspiciously.

"Fine. You know what? I'm going to march over there right now and tell her to admit she lied. Just you watch."

I marched off, trying to look more confident than I felt. But I suppose even if the volunteer was uncooperative, Tom would just forget about it in the end, anyway. Just like the name of Tom's camera which he took on our trip to Australia. Whatever that camera's name was, the truth is now lost somewhere in the folds of time.

While I was marching to the other side of the paved, outdoor eating area, I couldn't help but to notice a large group of kids had gathered around something tall and green. Curious, I got temporarily distracted and walked over to see what all the fuss was about.

In the middle of it all was Gafrash, holding a bottle of something. The kids around him were repeatably chanting "Scull! Scull! Scull!" I frowned. These were Kindergärtners?

With one vigorous movement, Gafrash tipped his head back and drank the unidentified liquid. It was only when he finished, the crowd cheered, and Gafrash put down the bottle, when I saw what the liquid actually was: Calvin Klein perfume.

I shook my head. Yet at the same time I couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to suffer hangovers from perfume. I sighed and walked on.

When I approached the volunteer, I couldn't help but notice that her web browser was open to a site called "Fan ." Since I didn't know what fan fiction was, I just disregarded it as being pointless. Kind of like McWhiskers when I think about it. He hasn't done anything major in the club as of yet, and all he seemed to do is run around in that hamster wheel all day.

"Why did you tell that kid that Tom was an alien?" I suppose there was no use beating around the bush. "Or even better, why did you tell him I was an android?"

The volunteer looked up from her computer and at me. The expression on her face seemed to be a mixture of pain and glee - if that is even possible. As quickly as she had looked at me, she looked back at the screen and continued typing.

"Hello?" I asked, annoyed about how ignorant she was.

The girl didn't say anything directly to me, but did mutter something under her breath that sounded awfully like; "Thou shall not interact with fictional characters...resist temptation..."

Worst come to worst, she was probably some conspiracy theorist that said something, but had no idea how close to home it had hit.

"Are you going to answer me or not?"

She shrugged, "At least I told the truth, right?"

"But I'm not an android," I protested/lied.

"Like Taylor's character isn't over-exaggerated, you aren't," she replied.

I blinked.

"Please let me be..." she muttered, "I've already broken the self-insertion rule just by existing. If I become too involved in this whole episode, then I'll be labeled a self-insertion Sue."

"Whats a -"

"Don't ask."

"Okay."

"I want to hug you."

I looked at her weirdly, while pacing a step back. "Then why aren't you trying to?"

She sighed to herself wistfully, "I can't go hugging every piece of information that comes out of my head, right? Well, technically you're KA's character, not mine. The disclaimers should have finalized that long ago. But anyway -"

It was obvious that I had no idea what she was talking about. But since I had now defined her into a certain categories of people I did not approve of (nut case, weirdo, delusional nut case weirdo, Internet addict) I decided it would be best to back away slowly and not go anywhere near her again.

Except I skipped the whole "slowly" part and ran for the hills.

**&&&** **The King, the Queen, and the troll under the bridge** **&&&**

There is one thing I can say for sure about five year olds: they possess _lot _of creativity.

I found this out right after lunch at playtime. I hadn't thought much of it before. Playtime is just about building sand castles, tattling on the kid who picked his nose, and being as annoying as a kindergärtner can, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong.

Playtime is a time where the line between everything that impossible and possible, strange and normal, gets blurred so much, that the sides merge into one. And I was about to find out just how horrifying the imagination of five-year-olds could be.

At lunch time, we played King and Queens.

Doesn't sound very frightening, does it?

"I want to be queen!" protested Taylor. She them grimaced in pain, probably because of her hurting tooth. Heck knows how talking can hurt your teeth.

"Not a chance, hun," Visser One said and then plunked herself down on the royal throne (aka a plastic chair sitting at the top of the double-story cubby house in the playground.)

"No!" Taylor screeched. She was just about to pummel her when some short, red-haired girl stepped in and stopped her.

"We shall take a vote!" she exclaimed.

All the other kids murmured their agreement.

"Hands up," she said, "If you want Edriss to be queen."

Everyone raised their hand. Everyone.

Taylor frowned, and her left eye twitched.

"Yay!" cheered Visser One childishly, "Take that, you stuck up little child!"

"Stuck-up?! You think I'm stuck up, you piece of _Dapsen_?!"

"Thats right! You heard me right! Now cower before your queen!"

Visser One was becoming more like Visser Three by the second. I wasn't really sure if I should be concerned about that.

Taylor growled at Visser One.

"So how does this game work, anyway?" I asked the red-head girl. It was a reasonable question. Obviously the whole point of the game wasn't all about deciding who was queen.

"Its easy!" she exclaimed happily, "The queen waits in the castle. All the boys have to race through through the vegetable garden, swim through the sandpit of doom, over the slide, and across the bridge of the evil troll, the into the castle. The first gets to marry the queen and become king!"

This girl's knowledge of how marriage works in royal families utterly annoyed me. But of course, she was just a child. It wasn't like _she _was Catherine the Great's hairdresser.

"Oh, and they also get half a chocolate bar which I stole off Billy!" red-head said happily.

Oh, goody.

And so, we all lined up at the other end of the playground and the race began. It seemed all the boys in the class were participating. That was strange. Surely they weren't all interested in Visser One. Maybe they just all wanted the title of getting there first or something.

As the red-headed girl screamed, "GOOOOOO!" we all took off.

Now, think vegetable gardens are harmless? Think again. Because when we all ran through that garden, chaos came. All around me, kids were falling face-flat into the muddy ground of the patch. As I looked back (I can pretty much turn my head back while running at the speed [human speed, of course] I am, afterall, and android) I saw that Tom's friend, Tom, had tripped.

"The tomato vine! It has me!"

"No, Tom!" Exclaimed Tom (not the blond, real five-year-old).

"Go on without me!" said blond Tom.

Tom let out a long sob, nodded, and continued running.

I got out of the vegetable garden without any problems. However, about half the boys of the class has perished there. It was times like these I was grateful I was an android. Nothing as primitive as a vegetable garden was going to hold me back.

It was then that we all met the sandpit of doom. It's special property? Quick sand. I kid you not. About every second kid who stepped into that sinked to knee depth, crying in anguish and protest. Fate was fortunate to me, somehow. I managed to get across the sandpit without sinking. I wonder what the odds were.

The population of boys running was again halved. There was only Tom, Visser Three, myself, and a few boys left running.

"Must...win..." panted Tom, as we sprinted towards the slide.

"Why are you so eager to win?" I asked Tom suspiciously.

"Ah Erek," Tom sighed/spluttered, "My true love lies at the finish line, and I shall not fail her."

Oh, Erek's going to be twenty bucks richer. Twenty bucks richer, twenty bucks richer...

We approached the slide of doom. I was just about to climb up the ladder to the top, when...

"Out of my way, disgusting earth child!" Visser Three demanded, as he shoved me aside. Being the non-violent android that I am, I couldn't do anything to stop him. I sighed and went second.

One too many people went on that slide at the same time. The result – people falling off. Children fell from only a few feet high, and onto the rough dirt below. Most of them didn't appear to be injured (at least not seriously) but they looked too dazed to run any further.

When we left the zone of the slide, there was only Visser Three, Tom, myself, and one random kid left.

Next was the bridge. On the other side of the raging river (the river being a long piece of blue fabric and the bridge being a wooden plank that had been lied across the fabric) was a tree. And behind that tree jumped...

"GAFRASH!"

The last random kid that was with us screamed and turned to run in the opposite direction. Not that I could blame him. Seeing Gafrash jump out like that was enough to make someone wet themselves.

"Fee-Fai-Foe-Thumb, Gafrash smell blood of king. Gafrash boil king slightly and serve with expensive caviar."

Tom didn't seem to notice how Gafrash had switched to English half way through that sentence.

With a stunning but ungraceful leap, Gafrash leaped towards the bridge. Only, he landed on the fabric instead. A blade near his foot got caught, and he tripped and landed face-first on the wooden-plank bridge.

Everyone saw this as the perfect opportunity to cross. Only when they did it, they ran over Gafrash.

"Gafrash!" "GAFRASH!" screeched Gafrash, as he got continually trampled.

We were fast approaching the cubby-house. I was about tied with Visser Three, while Tom was stumbling far behind. Apparently, Tom isn't such a fast runner.

I looked ahead towards my target, thinking of sweet victory. That was, until I actually wondered what my target was. This whole race was ludicrous! Why was I even running in this stupid thing? To win Visser One?

I slowed down to such a pace, that Tom eventually jogged slowly past, his face red from exhaustion.

"I WIN!" yelled the excited voice of Visser Three from the top of the cubby house, "Bow down to your almighty king!"

Tom, as he climbed up the steps of the cubby, looked absolutely heartbroken. I followed, feeling rather neutral about the whole thing.

"My true love," Tom sniffled, "I failed her."

"There, there," I said sympathetically, and patted Tom on the back. "There's plenty more fish in the sea. Heck, maybe next time you'll even get Visser One."

Tom blinked.

"Visser One?" he asked, "I was talking about the chocolate bar."

...

Wait, so did this mean that neither Gafrash nor I had one the bet? Maybe it would be best just not to mention any of this to Gafrash.

Visser Three was continuing his victory dance (which looked suspiciously like the chicken dance), and Visser One looked all passive, sitting on the plastic chair that was meant to be a throne.

"Hang on," said the red-haired girl, "Before you become king, there is one thing left to do."

"What?" asked the Visser. His good mood was gone with the wind.

"Kiss the queen, of course!" Red-haired explained.

Visser Three's face turned a tone of bright pink. "What! No! I shall not do such a thing!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Visser One, "And it is not like I would want to kiss that disgusting Dapsen back, either."

"You have to," said red-head seriously, "Or no chocolate."

Visser Three gulped.

Taylor shifted around from her place in the corner, curiously.

Tom took out of his pocket a camera-phone, which I have never known he had until now.

"But if I kiss her, won't I get cooties?" asked Visser Three, looking a bit nervous.

"Nope!" said red, "We already gave her a Cooties test. She tested negative."

Visser Three stared at Visser One. Visser One stared at Visser Three. The whole thing was like a cheesy scene out of a romance movie.

"Let's get this over and done with..." muttered Visser Three.

The Visser then walked right up to the other Visser, and kissed her on the lips, before she could protest.

The little kids all let out a chorus of "ewwwww!" That's little kids for you. They think something is great and awesome one second, and the next they are totally over it.

All the while, Tom was busy snapping photos of the Vissers, and grinning mischievously to himself.

And it made me think, would we really be able to pull it off this time?

...

Probably not.

&&& **What have we learned? **&&&

Life offers some valuable lessons.

And according to Miss McClean, so did one single day of being in utter torture at the expense of mad, stinky five-year-olds.

That was why at the end of the day, all the new students were asked to stand up, and tell the rest of the class what they have learned.

"I've learned that Erek is cute!" I dare you to guess who said that one. Taylor sat down.

Tom stood up. "I learned that my love was only 94 percent fat-free and not 98, so it wouldn't have worked out, anyway."

Gafrash was next. "Me Gafrash. Me learn human body mass fit in dress-up cupboard."

It was then that there was a loud and mysterious clutter that came from inside of the dress-up cupboard. Strangely enough, nobody seemed to notice.

Visser Three took the stand. "I have learned Visser One wears cherry-flavored lip-balm."

"I have learned that Esplin is still a dapsen, and will always be a Dapsen," said Visser One.

I stood. "I have learned that weird phenomenons always go unnoticed by weird people."

There was then a loud string of cuss words heard from the back of the room. Actually, to me it sounded like a melody of "Acorn, Toaster and Lamppost." All the kids, not being mature enough yet to handle the concept of naughty words, turned there attention to the back.

"Where is it?!" screamed the volunteer to herself as she scuffled through her handbag, sounding extremely panicked. "My LG U900 touch-camera-phone! It was here!!! Where is it?"

Miss McClean didn't seem to be to happy by the volunteer swearing. But still, she just had to ask.

"Would you like to tell us what you have learned today?"

The volunteer sighed bitterly, muttering "_Lampost_'ing _acorn toaster_," and took a stand.

"I have learned that the kids in the class are little thieves," she said acidly. "Also, I have learned that self-insertions such as myself don't belong in this weird, twisted, made-up universe. And certainly, I'm not going to be visiting again anytime soon."

That volunteer sure was weird. She made our little freak-show club look normal, what with her babbling on about whatever a self-insertion was.

But at the end of the day, we should look on the bright side – Tom has incrimination photos of the Vissers, and his possibly-stolen camera phone hasn't died yet. Maybe this time, we actually _will _be successful.


	10. Visser Karaoke Night

**A/N: Phew, finally an update! Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter, everyone! I just got back from a trip to Japan not that long ago, and suffered a mini writer's/reader's block. But I'm back now!  
**

**This chapter is a fair bit shorter than normal chapters. However, the last chapter was really long, so that makes up for it. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I don't think it really was as good as some chapters I have written in the past. I need your honest opinions.**

**Now, anonymous review reply!**

**Unknowable: I have absolutely nothing against potato salad. I actually rather like it ;D It's just..._Taylor's _potato salad which is bad. Not potato salad in general.**

**On another note, if there is anybody here waiting for the next chapter of As If By Magic, I have to let you know that it is in the beta-reading as we speak. So not long ;D On with the chapter!**

**(PS: Chapter not beta-read. If I made any really stupid mistakes, please point them out!)**

_Chapter 10 – Visser Karaoke Night_

"Hand it over."

"I refuse to, android."

"But there was nothing indicating that Tom was gay!"

"There was nothing indicating that he was straight, either," Gafrash countered. He smirked and crossed his bladed arms, knowing he had won our little argument.

It was a couple of days after we had been forced to attend a Kindergarten. By now, everything was pretty much back to normal. Over that night, we had all converted back to our true ages, and my hologram started working properly again. It was a good thing, too. That experience in that Kindergarten was probably one of the worst I have had in the all of my 50 or so lives.

McWhiskers sighed via thoughtspeech. ((Have any of you even stopped to think where Taylor and Tom are?))

I shrugged. "Not really," I said, "Usually, if Taylor isn't here, she comes barging through the door in a deafening manner sooner or later. Tom is probably with her."

((Meh,)) said McWhiskers carelessly, ((As long as I'm not involved in the next stupid scheme Miss Nutcase cooks up, that I really can't care less.))

Gafrash shot McWhiskers (who was running around backwards in his hamster wheel) a look of spite, "I'm sure there is only a matter of time, earth _Ruttk._"

If McWhiskers was human, he would have frowned.

It was then that Tom burst through the door – soaking wet, and holding a stick of salami. I kid you not.

He then marched down the stairs, and sat on the sofa. Usually, I would tell Tom how Taylor wouldn't be happy if he water-damaged the sofa, but I was way too curious.

"What happened to _you_?"

Tom sniffled and curled up into a ball. "I'm not in the mood to talk about it..."

((He looks like a drowned rat,)) McWhiskers commented, ((No offense to my kind.))

Tom's left eye twitched. Then his right. And then...

"KWHFWVHFKMVEOVURIVVURV! YOU BLASTED DAPSEN OF A RAT! STOP HIDING BEHIND PRIVATE THOUGHT-SPEECH, BANDIT!" He leaped off the sofa dramatically and pointed an accusing finger at Gafrash. "And you..." he said viciously, "Don't think I've forgotten about you, Gafrash who is really smarter than he looks!"

"How did you figure it out?" Gafrash asked, "I mean...erh...bark good."

He then grabbed the stick of salami and knocked Tom over the head with it, causing him to fall face-first and pass out.

((Somebody is having a bad day.))

"For once, I must agree with you vermin. That incident that occurred just now was much..."

"Unusual and random?" I supplied.

"Yes," Gafrash confirmed nervously. His eyes darted around the room. "Excuse me for one moment." He then picked up the phone from it's hook, and ran up the stairs and into the house.

"He's hiding something," I said to McWhiskers.

((Probably,)) he commented wearily, ((personally, I'm still trying to get over the shock of Tom's outburst.))

But I had really gotten over that, and was more intrigued by Gafrash's weird behavior. Though I had managed to find out his real name, there was still a whole lot we didn't know about him. And now, it seemed more likely that he was involved in some sort of suspicious doings.

And where was Taylor during all of this? Nobody knew. Except for maybe Tom, but he was out cold. So, until he did wake up and gave us an opportunity to ask him where on earth Miss Psycho was, all there was left to do was...bond with a rat.

Not a rat, even. An Andalite bandit nothlit rat, that spends most of his day running around in a wheel and eating mice-o-nibbles. I'm sure he would be a "really" interesting person to have a conversation with.

"So..."

((So...))

"YOU-WHO!!!" cooed a voice from the top of the stairs. Both McWhiskers and I looked up to see who it was. Of course, we already knew. But miracles can happen.

"((Taylor.))"

Taylor pranced down the stairs gracefully, clutching about ten shopping bags.

"I'm back! Miss me? Of course you did!" exclaimed Taylor happily.

"Taylor," I asked slowly, "Where have you been?"

"Shopping!" Taylor answered.

Well, duh.

"I got a new litter box for Gafrash, a stick of salami for McWhiskers -" Why would you get a rat a stick of salami? "- and for you, I got..." out of the bag, she pulled a box with a picture of a shiny, new laptop on it.

((No fair!)) complained McWhiskers. I saw Tom's left leg twitch.

My jaw dropped. "You got me a laptop?!" Was I wrong? Somewhere in Taylor, was there really a part of her that was full of compassion and sweet sanity? Had I been misjudging her all this time?

Taylor chuckled, "Oh, Erek, you're so silly! Look _inside._"

I did. And inside was a green, plastic shovel.

...

"It's the poop-a-scooper 2000!" announced Taylor, "I have decided that if Gafrash ever mis-aims when taking a dump in his litter box, that you will be the one to clean up the mess."

I...don't know what to say.

"Isn't that wonderful, Erek!?"

There was a long silence, then McWhiskers burst out laughing. Taylor, of course, couldn't hear him. So she just waited there, smiles and all, hoping that I would be thrilled and full of glee from her thoughtful gift. I wasn't.

"Wonderful..." I muttered sarcastically. But as we all know, Taylor doesn't really get sarcasm.

"I knew you would say that!" she chirped, "Now, the costumes." She instantly started rustling through her bags, trying to find the...costumes.

"C-Costumes?" stuttered Gafrash who was at the top of the stairs, "Erhm...Costume good. Gafrash eat costume!" He then wobbled down the stairs ungracefully, in a very Hork-Bajir like manner. Where had he been?

It was then Tom decided to wake up. He sat up and rubbed his head, looking a bit confused. "I just had the weirdest dream," he mused, "I dreamed that McWhiskers and Gafrash could speak."

((BOO!))

Tom dropped.

Gafrash chuckled mischievously. Sure, McWhiskers and Grafrash weren't very close (more like hated each other's guts,) but Gafrash couldn't deny that it was pretty funny. Even I was having trouble suppressing my laughter.

Taylor didn't as so much bat an eye lid. In fact, she didn't even seem to notice Tom was unconscious. Again.

"Aha!" cried Taylor triumphantly. And up she held was a pink, flowery kimono. Oh no...

"This kimono is mine!" she said happily. Phew...looks like I will avoid the dreads of cross dressing once more. "I've got a purple one for you, Erek!" announced Taylor.

I choked back a holographic tear of distress. Where did she even get these costumes from?!

"Gafrash has a samurai suit, I also got Tom one!" she held up the dress.

I frowned. "Taylor, that's a Hanbok."

Taylor returned my frown. "Hansy-what?"

"It's not Japanese, it's Korean."

Taylor blinked, and stared at the green Hanbok dress. "Oh."

"So, what are we actually going to be doing this time around?" I asked, "You've got all the costumes ready, so you may as well tell us so we can get the misery over and done with as soon as possible."

"Ah thats right! I was about to tell you all what super-duper fun night we have in plan! We, my fellow club members, will be going to Visser Karaoke Night!"

It was my turn to be totally bewildered. "Visser what?"

Tom, who had woken up without me noticing, stared at me with disbelief. "Don't tell me you've never heard of Visser Karaoke Night!"

"No, I haven't. And I'm pretty sure I don't want to know." Notice how when anybody says "I don't want to know," they get told anyway?

"It's a night when all the Vissers and Sub-Vissers meet up to engage in this earth past-time. Of course, not all of them turn up. Normally about twenty or so. However, it is rumored that Visser One and Visser Three will be attending this year's event."

Taylor looked shocked. "Tommy, how did you know this when I haven't even told you?!"

Tom shrugged. "I read the gossip section of the Yeerkingly Times. There's some pretty juicy things there."

But Taylor wasn't done yet. "But," she said, holding up a finger, "there is a rumor, a rumor so secret, that it hasn't been mentioned in the tabloids."

"That one of the members of the Council of Thirteen will be there?"

Taylor pointed her dracon beam at Tom, furious that he had stolen every little detail she was about to ramble on about. Tom whimpered and jumped back.

"So what are we planning to do?" I asked with a sigh, "trying to snap a shot of the Vissers singing some cheesy song while dressed in ridiculous outfits ourselves." I paused. "Hang on a minute...Tom took photos successfully last time...what ever happened about that?"

((Good question,)) McWhiskers commented, ((Tom came running in here, screaming that 'Old McDonald had finally done it.))

Old McDonald was the camera, if you haven't already figured it out.

I noticed how Tom didn't react when McWhiskers said that. Was it possible, some how, that Tom's level of intolerance to McWhiskers's thought-speech had gotten so bad, that he just couldn't hear him any more?

"Ah yes," said Taylor, "Well, since we don't have a computer, I had to sneak in to somewhere to use one so I could email the Council of Thirteen."

The Council of Thirteen have an email account?

"I went and checked back earlier today, and I received an email back, saying they were coming for me and my photos! Yay! I'm going to be famous! ...But, they're not here yet. So I think they perhaps didn't like the pictures very much."

Taylor must have forgotten to put an address on the email. Still, the Council of Thirteen have superior enough technology to track IP Addresses on computers. Who knows, maybe they showed up at whatever computer she had used.

I wonder what had happened...

**Not that far away...**

"I'm innocent!" cried Hendrick Chapman, as he got dragged out of his office by a squad of elite Hork-Bajir – that could speak perfect English.

"Inniss 226, you are under arrest for sending fake, criminalizing pictures of a higher authorities to even higher authorities!"

"I want a lawyer!"

"Yeah, and I want a hot tub."

&&&

We had pretty much lost Gafrash straight up – to the bonsai garden. You see, as you entered the grounds on which the Teppanyaki restaurant and Karaoke room was located, you had to pass through a fancy-shmancy looking garden filled of pricey looking bonsais and pretty colored rocks.

As soon as we had walked through that gate, Gafrash had pounced upon the poor bonsai, like a wild animal catching it's prey. He must have been hungry or something. Once on the bonsai, Gafrash made a purring noise, looking dreamingly in content. He was like a kitten – one huge, six feet tall, green-bladed-goblin-of-doom-in-a-samurai-outfit kitten.

Of course, Taylor didn't even notice that he had strayed from the path. She just trotted on, trying to look as glamorous as possible. Tom seemed to notice, though. However he didn't say anything, but just stuck to giving Gafrash a weary look.

When we entered the building, we were seated at the Teppanyaki table, along with a lot of other people, Taxxons and Hork-Bajir of who I had a "hunch" were the other Vissers.

It was pretty amusing watching Tom trying to sit on a barstool while wearing a Hanbok. He fell off at least five times until finally sitting on it with success. Each time I scoffed loudly, and when Tom looked up to see who had scoffed, I looked away nonchalantly.

The more the room continued to fill up, the more I sunk into the dark depths of my own melancholy. So it looked as if not only we be forced to into karaoke, but Teppanyaki was now on the agenda.

I noticed that our two favorite Vissers had, unlike normal, were already here. They were sitting at opposite ends of the table, eying the other with a look somebody might give to somebody they mightn't trust.

The room was a bustle of voices, and actions. Tom was gingerly stroking his new camera (Ol' McDonald the camera phone must have disappeared...that, or Taylor ate it) and Taylor was humming happily to herself.

"So Taylor..." I whispered, "Who is this Council of Thirteen member meant to be?"

Taylor shrugged, "How am I meant to know, silly."

There you have it. Again, we were on a wild goose chase.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a Hork-Bajir giving me a stare...a stare that made me feel really uneasy. I looked away quickly, telling myself off for making too many observations of the room I was in.

Finally, two chefs walked out from behind the white doors, along with the ingredients for this night's Teppanyaki. They positioned themselves so that one was on end of the table, and the other on the other end. And then, they began cooking. Skillfully, they spun, swirled and tossed their cooking utensils as then sliced diced and tosses prawns, rice, and noodles.

The Vissers and sub-vissers watched on with a drooling expression. That is, except for a few people in the room. Taylor had grown bored from watching, and had went on to file her nails. Tom was having a staring contest with a blond Visser across the room, and Gafrash....was nowhere to be seen. Probably still eating the bonsais.

"That girl..." Tom muttered to himself, still in full battle-stare mode with the girl, "I don't trust her. I bet she's the Council of Thirteen member."

Well, he could have as well of been right. Nobody else around the room looked like Council of Thirteen material.

One of the chefs used his spatula/flip/knife thing to pick up a prawn. Anybody who has ever been to Teppanyaki knows how this works – the chef will take his best aim for his client's mouth, and skillfully chuck the prawn into it from a distance.

He eyed Visser Three. Visser Three, who was in human morph, squealed with delight. It seemed strangely out of character for him.

With one vigorous toss, the prawn went flying through the air and...right passed Visser Three. But instead of yelling and asking for the chef to be fed to the the Taxxons (who were also sitting at the table, trying with all their willpower to contain themselves around meat) he did something else...

"Ten second rule!" he yelled, and jumped off the barstool and leaped towards the prawn, who was sitting miserably on the floor.

"Ewwwww, Esplin!" complained Visser One, looking absolutely disgusted. She looked around, hoping for a little agreement. Instead, she was greeted with a bunch of drooling morons of vissers and sub-vissers.

&&&

Karaoke, despite popular belief, is not always fun. Especially when a random male Hork-Bajir rocks up in the booth spot next to you and asks if he can take you back to his tree.

I was not pleased. Surely, there must have been some way to tell I was male...even if I was wearing a kimono and was doused in mascara and blush by the energetic Taylor.

Visser One, and Visser Three, to their dismay, had been forced to sit in the same booth as each other due to lack of seating – with Taylor, Tom and I in the center.

Everybody was staring at the Karaoke screen, awaiting the first song. And what a night it was. Song after song, in a chorus of universal voices...somehow, the slugs _did _in fact enjoy Karaoke.

And then...the familiar song began playing. Aqua's "Barbie Girl."

Visser Three narrowed his eyes. Visser One shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Visser Fifteen," they both said maliciously in perfected unison. And up into the middle of the room waddled a huge, evil looking Taxxon. And it began singing....

"Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet screeeeet screet, screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet-screet screeetttttttttttttttttttt screeet...SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!"

This went on for the whole duration of the song. All the vissers and sub-vissers sung along happily, except for myself, Tom (who had made an origami crane out of a napkin) and Visser Three and One.

Finally, the torture was over. And everybody clapped. Visser Three looked like he wanted to behead somebody at that moment. It was clear that he was insanely jealous of Visser Fifteen. Especially with the talk going around saying Visser Fifteen should be awarded "most talented singer of the night." Visser One, frankly, didn't look much more thrilled.

Angrily, Visser Three went up and requested a song. It didn't take long for his song to come up. And it also didn't take long for the two Vissers to make some silent, temporary treaty between the two in order to beat Visser Fifteen.

The song they were singing had a very, very familiar tune.

In fact, the two were singing Mama Mia.

They twirled and danced, sung their guts out, and made me wish I didn't have ears. However, I do have to admit they did sound better than Visser Fifteen.

Things went array towards the end of the song when Visser Three tripped on the microphone cord, thus falling on Visser One. This may have looked like a completely innocent accident to the naked eye, but to Tom's camera...it looked like a photo opportunity. Happily, Tom snapped away images of the two Vissers lying together.

"SIR NOODLES HAS DONE IT!" announced Tom, holding his camera up for the world to see. Sir Noodles...now that's just a stupid name.

Visser Three quickly jumped off Visser One, and walked away as if nothing had happened. But I'm pretty sure I saw him blush....

The girl that Tom had been staring at earlier, the one he said he didn't trust, got up and left the room. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe I was just in need of some fresh air (even though I don't need air to survive...) But I followed her.

She lead me to a corner of the bonsai garden. I hid afar, keeping a close eye on what she was doing. It was then I noticed she wasn't alone. Gafrash was there, too.

"Eight," said the blond, staring at Gafrash in an unphased manner.

"Six" replied Gafrash, "why is it that you are here?"

Something very interesting was unraveling here...at long last, was I about to find out who Gafrash really was?

I leaned in closer through the branches and bristles of the lone pine tree I was hiding behind, so I could get a better view.

Eight was just about to reply, when....

"YOU-WHO! GAFRASH!" Taylor yelled over the bonsai garden deafeningly, "WE'RE ABOUT TO GO! And Erek, get out from behind that pine tree!" I walked out from behind the pine tree sheepishly and over to Taylor. Gafrash turned away from the girl, without even a simple goodbye gesture, and over towards Taylor. He shot me a look. I knew that he knew...that I had been watching him.

Gafrash was hiding something.

_And it may be more sinister than I have first thought..._

**A/n: What dark secret is Gafrash hiding? You'll have to keep reading and find out! ;D Reviews, no matter what the genre, are greatly appreciated. I need plot ideas too, so if anybody has any suggestions, please let me know. I'll be sure to credit you in the Author's Note! Goodnight! **


	11. Library Ludicrous

**A/N: Yo everyone! Sorry for such the long wait on this chapter. Sometimes it gets a little difficult to balance out school, work and fanfiction writing :S But don't worry, I'm not dead. Credit for this chapter goes to Crazy Computer's Vendetta, for thinking up the whole "Vissers go to the library thing." Thanks! ;D  
**

**At Demyx is Mine So Ha: I would have sent you a PM thanking you for your review, but you had private messaging disabled so unfortunately I was unable to. But may I ask, what exactly is the Waka Laka? Please explain! ;D**

**  
Also, like always, this chapter is not betaread. If there are any really stupid mistakes in here, please let me know! There is also a few...references in this chapter, that you make or may not pick up on. Enjoy everybody!**

_Library Ludicrous _

McWhiskers jumped from key to key on Taylor's new laptop. Often, I would see him reach for the backspace key, because he would always inconveniently sit on the wrong letters.

"What are you doing, anyway?" I asked. There was no-one around to question my sanity for talking to a rat. Strange, though I had been called over an hour ago, nobody appeared to be here yet.

((Typing out a memoir. The world needs to know the truth before Taylor kills me.))

"You've only written three full words in the past twenty minutes. Somehow, I don't think "My name is Da-" is a very interesting memoir," I remarked.

((I'll get there..hopefully.))

McWhiskers, like always, was strange. And the more I seemed to see, the more I became convinced that this Andalite was somehow different from others of it's kind. But maybe my logic drive was just playing up again.

Outside, the loud roar of thunder was heard. It had been raining since early this morning, and it didn't look as if the weather wasn't going to clear up any time soon. The day to come looked as if it would be surprisingly monotone. Normally, thanks to Taylor's terror-happy personality, we would be in some weird, illogical situation by now.

But no.

I sighed. "I'm going to check the mail."

((When it's bucketing down with rain outside?))

"I'm bored, okay?"

I treaded up the steps and through Taylor's house. For those who don't know what Taylor's house looks like, here's the deal – pink, frills and lace. She also has a spooky collection of universal weapons hanging on her kitchen wall. Thankfully, Taylor's house it very small. So you don't have to walk through much of it to get from the basement to the front door.

When I walked out the front door, I realized McWhiskers was certainly right. The sky was overcast and gray, and the rain was pouring. Not that I really cared or anything. The force-field of my hologram defends me from the impact of rain.

I casually strolled out to the mailbox. On Taylor's happy little neighborhood of Tortionnaire Drive, there was a park. Ironically, the park was called Douleur Park – Pain Park. It was as if Taylor herself had named the it.

What particularly captured my attention at this moment about the park was the shouting. It could have been shouting of pain for I knew, but there was just something about it which seemed... I don't know. I just suppose somebody decided to have an argument in the park.

My curiosity got the better of me in the end. I walked slowly across the road and over to the park. I ducked behind a bush to avoid being seen by the arguers. Whatever was going on here, I probably didn't want to become involved.

Only then did I realized who were in the fight – Gafrash and that blond from a week ago. Let me refresh your memory. About a week ago, Taylor dragged us off to Teppanyaki and Karaoke. The whole time we were there, Tom was complaining about a girl, who looked probably in her late teens or so, staring at him.

I hadn't thought much of it at first. People stare at Tom all the time. Mainly because he is just generally weird. Not as weird as Taylor, mind you. But anyway, after Karaoke, I caught Gafrash have a brief conversation with this girl. They knew each other, that was for sure. But under what circumstances?

"Get in your place, Eight," the blond growled.

"Mischa -"

"That's six to you," she replied.

Gafrash sighed, lifting the cloak of bitterness that seemed to be surrounding him. "Can't we just refer to each other as our real names in public?"

The scowl on Mischa's face lightened. "An exception..." she muttered, "could be made this time, I suppose. Now, on to business, Kad..."

I smirked, as I had come up with my first theory on who this girl was – Gafrash's girlfriend! ...Well, it is possible.

What was really concerning, however, was the mentioned of "ranks." Tom...he had said something back at Karaoke. I searched through my memory, trying to find the record.

"_That girl...I don't trust her. I bet she's the Council of Thirteen member."_

The Council of Thirteen, by self-explanatory, was compiled of thirteen Yeerks. Those numbers left a position for both eight and six.

Was it somehow possible that Yeerks could tell when the higher forces were around? Was it possible that...Gafrash was a council of Thirteen member?

suppose it was possible. After all, none of us knew Gafrash very well. He could have been some super-government-agent-spy for all we knew. Though, that scenario probably wasn't the most likely.

"There is some top secret information I need to tell you about," said Mischa, "The information is so top secret, that if anybody overheard about it, it would jeopardize our very existence."

Come on come on come on!

"YOUUU-WHOOO!"

...

Damn it TAYLOR!

Of course, Taylor had suddenly appeared in the distance holding a plastic bowl covered with plastic wrap that concealed something inside. She was wearing a pink, glittery sequent dress, and with the hand she wasn't holding the bowl (which most likely contained potato salad) with, she was waving cheerfully at Gafrash.

"Over here, Gafrash!!!"

As soon as Mischa saw Taylor, she made a dash for it. Not willing to give up that easily, I quickly followed her steps, not caring if Taylor or Gafrash would see me.

Mischa ran behind a tree at the edge of the park. Now was my chance.

I ran around the tree and...

She disappeared – in to thin air. I...what? I saw her run around the tree! That was impossible! She should be there!

"Oh Erek!!!" cooed Taylor from across the park, "Stop chasing a squirrel! I'm very disappointed in you, my little Erek-pie. Usually I would only expect Gafrash to do that!"

Thanks to my advanced hearing, I heard Gafrash (who had since walked over to Taylor while I pursued Mischa) say happily, "Squirrel good. Gafrash eat squirrel."

&&&

I quickly ran ahead of Taylor and Gafrash to warn a certain "typing mouse" to stop typing before Taylor found out. Sure enough, he was still at it when I got back to Taylor's basement.

"Better cut it, McWhiskers," I said headed down the stairs. "Taylor and Gafrash are coming."

I curiously stared over at the computer. "Your typing skill has improved."

((Yup,)) replied McWhiskers happily.

I narrowed the eyes of my hologram, seeing that the suspected bandit was no longer typing out his memoir.

"What happened to the memoir?"

((Going to finish it later. I got too distracted by this meme.))

I was going to ask what on earth a meme was, when Taylor and Gafrash caught up with me.

"Oh Erek," Taylor said cheerfully, "Such enthusiasm! I've never seen a club member race back to my basement that fast!"

Believe me Taylor, it was anything but enthusiasm.

At the speed of light, McWhiskers dashed off the keyboard along the desk, and through a small hole in the back of his cage.

Taylor then trotted on down the stairs, while Gafrash followed close by and shot me a dirty look.

It was then that Taylor unveiled something that would send doom upon us all.

...

Wait for it....

"Meatloaf!" exclaimed Taylor.

There was a loud clatter and bang as something or _someone _fell down the stairs – Tom. He must have just arrived and passed around from shock and fell down the stairs at the mention of Taylor's cooking. Along with him, fell many shopping bags and packages.

"Oh yay! My shopping!" cheered Taylor, and she skipped over and picked up the bags.

"Urgh..." commented Tom.

"Um, Taylor...don't you think Tom might be in need of some...erh, medical attention?" I pointed out.

Taylor took one glance at Tom and said, "Nope."

After that simple response, she began to explain the plan, while Tom – no, wait, make that all of us – withered in pain.

But never in our wildest dreams did we imagine our question for Visser Humiliation would lead us to..._the library._

&&&

"She has _really _crossed the line," muttered Gafrash, "_really, really_ crossed the line."

I shrugged. "Things could always have been worse. Just look at Tom." I stared far behind down the street we were walking down at a hobbling Tom, who was having a bit of trouble adjusting to his new crutches. I had finally convinced Taylor to let the Yeerk get medical attention. The doctor had explained to us he had fractured a bone in his foot and it would be weeks, maybe even months before it healed.

"No," disagreed Gafrash, "I am certain, android, that I am the one that is worse off."

Okay, so maybe being in a walking-bookcase costume and walking down the street where all the public eye could see you was pretty bad...but still, he shouldn't be so winy. I lived through Attila the Han's invasions, and you don't see me complaining about how awful it was.

Oh yeah, the plan. Well, Taylor had explained to us that the Council of Thirteen (which I now suspect Gafrash may be a member of) had issued a test to both Visser Three and Visser One on human knowledge and history. Who knows why. Anyway, Taylor had received exclusive information that the two Vissers would make a visit to the library about half an hour before it was set to close for the day. Her exclusive source of information? The old man that sits on the park bench that she passes each morning. Very reliable, Taylor.

"Hey everybody!" Called Taylor from further down the road, "Hurry up! We're here!" She then let out a loud, girlish squeal and ran up to the front door. Reluctantly, we had no choice but to follow.

&&&

Sure enough, when we got the library, both Visser Three and Visser One were there. But since they were on opposite sides of the library, each was unaware of the other's presence.

"Let's get a'crackin!" Taylor suggested enthusiastically.

Tom frowned. "But I don't have a camera."

"Then find one. You always do," pointed out Taylor.

"It's not that simple -"

"I'll head off to the history section. You know, know my enemies by learning what they are learning about." Criticizing human's recording of their own history, here I come. I wonder how many history books I could read and summarize at the same time...

Taylor was sane for once and agreed with that while she was thinking of an _actual _way to humiliate and capture evidence of the two Vissers doing something inappropriate, we may as well wonder off and do as we please.

So naturally, off I went to the history section.

About twenty minutes later and while I was in the middle of criticizing the inaccuracy of a book that claimed to be about Mesopotanium politics, I was approached by a very concerned looking Tom. I tried not to chuckle as he almost tripped over his own crutches.

"What's wrong?" I asked, as I put down the error-filled book.

"It's Gafrash," Tom stated. "He suddenly randomly started eating a random man's shirt and I can't get him off. I've already tried myself...and I would get Taylor, but I've ran around the library and can't find her."

Rely on Taylor to actually disappear the very moment you need her.

I sighed and walked over to the reading chairs with Tom. As I approached, I could hear the screams and protesting of Gafrash's victim.

"Get off me you psychotic criminal!"

Only, I happened to recognize the random man who was having Gafrash consume his shirt.

"Oh my gosh, that's Stephen King!"

(No relation, by the way.)

Tom blinked. "Stephen who?"

I couldn't believe it. In front of me was a prodigy Hork-Bajir dressed as a bookcase trying to eat famous writer Stephen King's shirt. I didn't think things could get this insane, but it looks like I stand corrected.

Quickly, I analyzed the situation mathematically and found a way I could pull Gafrash off without either parties being injured. Once I had successfully yanked Gafrash off Stephen King, I asked him angrily, "What kind of leaves are you on!?"

"Maple leaves," replied Gafrash straight-forwardly.

Stephen King shuddered and moved further back in his seat. "And I thought my high-selling novel Salem's Lot was scary."

"Mr. King, my name is Erek," I introduced myself. "I'm a big fan of yours. Can I have your auto -"

Tom interrupted, "Got a camera?"

Mr. King quickly unzipped his bag and tossed Tom a random camera. "Take it!" he said quickly then made a run for the door, "I have to get out of this town!"

I sighed. "Great Gafrash, the first famous person I have met in...awhile, and you scare him off!"

Gafrash didn't really seem to hear though, as he had wandered off a few chairs away. I know you can hear me, Gafrash.

I eyed Tom's camera.

"Stephen King touched that. We could make a fortune from it on eBay."

I noticed from the corner of my eye that Gafrash froze.

"My precious!" exclaimed Tom, and hugged the camera as if it was his most prized possession (heck, it probably was.) He then ran off to the DIY section to spend some quality time with his "precious."

I turned back towards Gafrash. He was staring intensely at a book sitting on a table besides a reading chair titled "Roscoe Riley Rules."

His Hork-Bajir eyes narrowed, and I could have sworn he muttered something like, "It's destabilizing..."

It was then that Taylor popped out from nowhere and announced, "Guess what?! The library closed five minutes ago and we've been locked in for the night! Isn't that wonderful!?"

&&&

"Visser One?!"

"Visser Three?!"

Yes, it was that time already. It took twenty whole minutes for the two Vissers to realize the library was seemingly closed, and they both made their way to the exit doors. Of course, they arrived at the same time.

"What are you doing here?!" demanded Visser Three (who was in human morph) angrily.

"Possibly the same reason your are here," Visser One replied. Why did Visser One always seem to be more civil than Visser Three?

"I suppose it doesn't matter anyway, because I am out of this puny little human compound for learning via compilations of text." Visser Three then tried to open the door. It didn't budge. He tried again. His efforts were in vain.

"What is it, Dapsen face?" Visser One asked, smirking, "can't even open a door which isn't voice-activated?" She shoved Visser Three aside.

"Hey!" protested Visser Three.

She ignored him, and then tried to open the door herself – to no avail.

"What were you saying "Dapsen face?"" mocked Visser Three.

Visser One shot Visser Three a spiteful look. "I suppose I'll just ring my people, then. They'll get _me _out of here."

Visser Three frowned.

She opened her handbag and took out a new-looking cellphone. She flipped it open and then...

"There's no reception!"

"Well," said Visser Three smugly, "So much for your people."

"Don't you understand what this means?"

"The door won't open?"

"No you half-wit! We're stuck here for the night!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

While this typical scenario was unfolding, the club was watching from afar.

"Visser no happy," stated Gafrash in a whisper. He looked concerned, and somehow I doubt it was because the Vissers weren't happy.

"This is going to be, like, so awesome!" Taylor squealed/whispered.

Tom didn't say anything, but looked on ahead while stroking is camera gingerly.

"Spread out," Taylor whispered, "Tom and Erek, over to the Modern History. Gafrash and I will go to the Young Adult's section."

So we all spread out. Since it pretty dark in the library (however still light enough to see, mind you) it was easier to sneak around.

By now, the Vissers had finished the main, first part of their arguing for the night.

"Well, since it seems we are going to be stuck here for the rest of the night, we may as well try and get some sleep," suggested Visser One.

Visser Three didn't look happy at the suggestion. "Fine," he huffed, "But let me make this clear, scum, that I will not be conversing with you any more than necessary." And with that, the Visser demorphed.

Tom, who was next to me, shivered as Visser Three had completed the transition to his true form. It was justified, too. Sure, Visser Three didn't look like much as a human. But when he's an Andalite...well, you just better hope he's in a good mood and won't slice you in to sashimi.

Visser One stared on unphased, then walked over to a sofa and sat down. Visser Three trotted over to stand near the book-check out.

Visser Three frowned with his eyes. ((Why are you doing that?))

"Doing what?" replied Visser One.

((Standing? Don't you need to be standing to sleep?))

Visser One made an annoyed "pttf" noise. "My host is a human, you moron. We sleep lying down."

((Oh.))

Visser One then began digging through her handbag, pulling out an eye mask, inflatable pillow, and blanket.

"Wow," I muttered.

"I know," agreed Tom, "her human fashion accessory is so small..."

"Yeah...how on earth did she fit all that in her handbag?"

With that, Visser One inflated the pillow, laid down, and put her eye mask and blanket on. Everything just seemed to be so convenient for her.

There was complete silence in the dark library for a couple of minutes. Everything was completely silence. And heck knows where Taylor and Gafrash were around about now.

((Visser One...)) said Visser Three quietly.

"...Yes whining insuperior?"

I saw Tom get out his camera and get in to his "ready-to-snap" pose.

It looked like he was stuck mid-way through the chicken dance.

((Do you...do you think that _Paranottka _is somewhere in this library watching us?))

Uneasy silence.

"Well, I didn't – until you brought it up, dapsen!"

Visser One removed her eye mask and sat up vigorously. She sighed. "Great...now I'm never going to get to sleep."

((I...I have an idea...))

"What?!" Visser One asked angrily. It seemed the tables had turned, and now Visser One was the angry, moody, sleep-deprived one.

((When I was scared...my mother always used to read me a story.))

"But your mother is a slug!" protested Visser One.

((Well, you don't need to be mean about it!))

"No I meant that she has no ha- oh, you know what? Never mind." Visser One sighed. "Fine, I'll read you a stupid story."

((Yipee!!!)) cheered Visser Three so happily, that one might have mistaken her for Taylor.

"I'll find some books, bring them back here, and you choose. Okay?"

((Okay!)) agreed Visser Three, in a strange, out-of-character way. Visser One then walked off and returned not long later.

"Okay," she said, as she approached Visser Three with the three books. "I can either read you Collins Dictionary, a weird book about sparkly vampires that I've never heard about, or the Three Little Pigs."

Visser Three considered it for a moment before saying, ((The third one.))

So Visser One and Three walked in to the aisle that was conveniently next to the one we were in (Visser Three had insisted on this, claiming it would be safer it they were out of view of the Paranottka) and they had sat down. Visser Three had done the closest he could do to sitting, and that was, well, sitting sort of like a horse.

Tom and I stared on through a gap between books sitting on the bookcase between the two aisles.

Visser One opened the book.

((Wait!!!)) cut in Visser Three.

"WHAT?!" demanded Visser One angrily.

((You have to hug me!)) said Visser Three.

Tom was so shocked, he nearly dropped his beloved camera. I, also, was quiet surprised

"...Why?" asked Visser One cautiously.

((Because that's what my mommy always used to do.))

"But your mother does not ha- why am I even arguing? It's not like we're being watched by the Peace Movement who would wait at any chance to bring up down."

So Visser Three snuggled up to Visser One in the darkness of the library. Tom began taking photos with the on the camera on. Strangely enough, the Vissers didn't seem to notice the bright flash.

"Once upon a time," began Visser One, "There was a three Vissers that decided to build houses. One built one out of plasma, one built a house out of platinum, and the other built his out of _agriltt_ metal."

Of course, by this time Visser Three had completely fall asleep due to Visser Three's inability to make stories sound interesting. She put down the book and closed her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"I've got the photos!" whispered Tom happily. He hobbled around on his crutches.

"Good," I said, "Now let's find Gafrash and Taylor."

We _were _going to find Gafrash and Taylor, until we heard footsteps coming our way. And a dark figure approaching.

"The paranottka..." whispered Tom. He looked to scared, that it looked as if he was about to wet his pants.

And as the figure got bigger and bigger, I realized who it was.

I narrowed the eyes of my hologram. "Her."

"Who?" asked Tom.

That girl, the one who Gafrash had called Mischa, was now here - the one that had disappeared in to thin air.

"Who are you?" I asked, once she was standing in front of us.

Then Mischa did something that would stun us both (especially poor Tom). She grabbed one of Tom's crutches right out from under his arm (this caused Tom to slope to one side) and knocked him on the head with it. Tom lost consciousness.

It had to be wondered why she didn't attempt the same thing with me. After all, she didn't know I was an android. But still, she didn't.

She then used the crutch to smash in Tom's camera.

"No!" I protested, "Stop it! What are you doing!"

Being non-violent, there was nothing I could have done to have stopped her smashing Tom's camera in to smithereens.

"We worked hard to get those photos!" I whispered angrily and loudly, "What is wrong with you?"

Mischa also didn't look so thrilled. "If you had gotten _those_ particular photos developed, given the time, day, year, and position of the planets..." she began, "You would have ripped a hole in the space-time continuum, thus ending existence as we know it. I ask you, is that what you want?"

I blinked. "Seriously, who are you?"

"I'm from the TKA," she explained.

I frowned. "What do those letters stand for?"

She shrugged, "Why don't you just ask "Gafrash"?"

Not bothered to talk to me anymore, she walked off in to the darkness.


	12. One Wedding and a Vortex

**A/n: Chapter 12 is done at last! This took me a little longer than usual, but it is a very long chapter. According to word count, I've gone over 6000 words on this one. **

**Now its time for.... Anonymous review reply!**

**At Pinta: The Animorphs won't be finding out for a while. However, the answer to what TKA is will most likely be announced in the next chapter.**

**At truthordareftw: Aww, shucks. Thank you so much for your kind words. Here's the update!  
**

**Disclaimer: Emails in this chapter are NOT real. If you try emailing anything to that address, then I highly doubt you'll get a reply. In addition, this chapter is rated T...plus. Or M-, whatever floats your boat. This is due to certain themes later in the chapter.  
**

_One Wedding and a Vortex._

It seems that these days, nothing can be done in peace.

And just now I discovered checking emails are no exception. As well as being connected to the Chee-net 24/7, I am also connected to the human Internet. This is rather handy in most cases. I can browse the headlines on news sites, watch videos on a recently-created site know as "You-tube," and of course, check my emails.

This is when I come to the part about not being able to complete this in peace. As soon as I logged on to check my emails, a particular email stood out at me:

**MY LITTLE EREK-PIE!!! IMPORTANT!!! XOXOX**

_Gee,_ I thought, _I wonder who that's from._

I sighed to myself bitterly, thus earning a strange look from the Chee who plays my father, who was sitting next to me on the couch watching some strange game show.

I ignored his stare, and reluctantly opened the email.

**MY LITTLE EREK-PIE!!! IMPORTANT!!! XOXOX**

From: "Insane-weirdo nut case" (hotter_than_u(at)YeerkEmpire(dot)org)

To: "Erek" _(E-king(at)aol(dot)com)

Dear my little cutie Erek-pie,

The next meeting of our super-duper club will be held on Tuesday, at 10:00am

LOVE FROM TAYLOR,

xoxoxox

_Want to add more expression to your emails? Download free smiley icons now! :)_

* * *

If the first thing you hear as you enter the basement of a psycho's house is the arguing of a talking rat and a leaf-munching green goblin over pirates or ninjas, you know the day isn't off to a good start.

Fortunately, they stopped their stupid argument when they discovered I was standing at the top of the stairwell, looking down upon them with utter disdain.

"Personally," I said, "I prefer ninjas."

"Ah, Erek," greeted Gafrash, "nice of you to join us." He said that insincerely, of course.

I walked down the stairs. "Where's Taylor and Tom?"

"I was hoping that perhaps you would be able to answer that question," replied Gafrash, before sighing. "And maybe, with a bit of luck, she has found a new group of unsuspecting victims to torture."

"What about Tom?"

((Who cares?)) replied McWhiskers. ((All that matters is that as long as they're not here, and we have a free day. I think I will use this time to do some spring cleaning. My cage is starting to get cluttered.))

"No it isn't," I retorted, "It looks exactly the same as when it was last meeting."

((...shut up.)

I walked over to the club couch and through myself down on it. Since this was currently looking to be a free day, I may as well find something to do. Lazily, I picked up the remote and flicked through the channels. Nothing but crumby reality TV shows.

I looked over towards Gafrash. He was busy painting a picture that would put Picasso to shame.

And then, it occurred to me. Recently, weird things (on top of the already weird things our club experiences, of course) had been happening. Gafrash seemed to be the center of all these weird happenings. Yet every time I was going to approach him about what happened, I somehow got distracted.

Weird.

But I wasn't going to let the opportunity fly by this time. I wanted to know what the TKA was, and I wanted to know now.

"Say, Gafrash," I said casually, as I got off the couch and strolled over to him.

Gafrash sighed and put down his paint brush. "Yes, android?"

"What's the TKA?"

Gafrash froze, and I could of sworn he turned a little pale.

((He's got you there, Gafrash,)) said McWhiskers.

"I...I have no idea of what you are talking about!"

"Yeah, right," I snorted, "Come on, the TKA. You know, what your friend Mischa mentioned when she knocked Tom unconscious with his own crutch and brutally murdered his camera?"

((Woah,)) replied McWhiskers, ((Now I'm curious.))

Gafrash just stood there looking ill.

"Come on!"

((Tell us!))

"Sorry I'm late!" called a familiar voice from the top of the stairs – Tom. He awkwardly staggered down the stairs, trying his best not to trip and tumble down. Fortunately for Tom, he didn't (this time) and made it safely to the bottom.

"My host's mom had to drop both myself and my host's brother off at friends' houses."

Jake... he had been close.

Sometimes, I had gotten so lost in what I portrayed the club members as, that I couldn't see what they really were. It was something I didn't like to think about, yet it was still there. Tom, or really, Tom's Yeerk, was still the same selfish power-hungry Yeerk as ever.

Taylor was still same nut case that tortured Tobias, almost killing him.

Gafrash was...well, I wasn't quiet sure who he was, but I'm trying to find out.

And McWhiskers...he was just some smelly old rat/Andalite bandit nothlit.

And yet, even though these were people _nobody _would willingly socialize with, I still felt some sort of...would you call it friendship? No, probably not. Maybe an "understanding" would be better word to use.

Yes, that does nicely. I gained an understanding.

A high-pith computer beep broke me out of my involuntary musings.

((Oh, an email!)) squealed McWhiskers with joy. ((Maybe I finally got a review for that piece of Everworld fan-fiction I submitted.))

It was then that Gafrash picked up the painting he was working on, smashed his head through it, and muttered something under his breath in Hork-Bajir.

We all stared at him.

"What's the matter with Gafrash?" Tom asked, as his put bag down.

"No clue. Though it probably isn't anything important," I said dismissively.

((Did I say something wrong?)) wondered McWhiskers.

I strolled over to the computer casually, and opened the email window. What I saw didn't excite me, I'm afraid.

"It's from Taylor."

Tom and McWhiskers gasped (but McWhiskers in thought speech of course).

"Read it out," Tom said shakily. He sounded scared, and I hadn't even started.

"My...her...our humiliation plan," I read out, and cleared my throat. Or pretended to, anyway. I clicked the title, which resulted in the email loading and being displayed on the screen.

"Dear Erek-pie,"

Tom snickered.

"Tommy-too,"

Tom went silent.

"Gafrash and McWhiskers,

We...I really wish I could be here today. But unfortunately, I have contracted Swine Flu and have been forced to stay in isolation for a week."

"NOOOOOO!" shouted Gafrash loudly and unsuspectingly. We all shot around to stare at him. "Reality is doomed as we all know it!" And with that, he made a dramatic exit by running up the stairs of Taylor's basement and slamming the door.

A long, unnerving silence ensured.

"Erek..." Tom said slowly, "Did Gafrash just speak...coherent English?"

"No," I responded quickly, "Of course he didn't! That's ridiculous! Don't be so silly!"

((As if he would believe that.))

Tom turned pale. "Mouse...spoke!" He then pointed an accusing finger at me. "You heard it too! I know it!"

((Crap!)) swore McWhiskers, ((Hearing Gafrash speak English must have shocked him back in to hearing me. Quick Erek, knock him out!))

Tom shrieked and stepped back.

"Hello, non-violent android! Think of something else!"

((I...I can't!!!))

"An...android?" repeated Tom dumbly. He stared at me.

"No!" I replied quickly, "You see, that is what you _thought _you heard. What you _really _heard was..uh...anchovies!"

Tom crossed his arms, and looked from me to McWhiskers.

Uh oh.

* * *

I felt that our little explaining session to Tom wouldn't be fully satisfying without Gafrash. After all, it

was his fault. He deserved to have his stupid little secrets exposed to Tom for what he had done.

But why did he react like that at the mention of the "swine flu"? I, personally, have never heard of such a flu existing and thought Taylor had made it up as a joke. Gafrash was definitely hiding something. Something big...

Anyway, when I found Gafrash, he was stripping bark off Taylor's pot plant and stuffing his face with it. Maybe it was yet another sort of Hork-Bajir stress relief.

"It's over," I said angrily, "The second most power-hungry Yeerk in the galaxy knows you speak English, knows I'm an android, and knows McWhiskers is an Andalite. Happy?"

"Not really..." he admitted, "this is very...inconvenient. For all of us."

"Tom wants an explanation. In fact, _I _want an explanation."

"Sorry Erek," said Gafrash, as he stood up and dusted the bark dust off himself, "Can't be done."

"Why?"

"Because some things, regardless of what you are, can't be understood. You'll have to take my word, Android."

The thing is, I couldn't. There was never any way to determine if what was coming out of Gafrash's mouth was the truth, or lies. And my guess was most of them were lies.

* * *

Tom listened intently as explained to him _everything. _Well, maybe not everything. We didn't mention Gafrash's addiction to leaves, my sheer awesomeness (though I was tempted) and how McWhiskers had now gained the ability to touch type.

We really just covered the more basic stuff.

"So let me get this straight," Tom began, "Erek is ten-thousand-and-something-year-old android, Gafrash is a prodigy Hork-Bajir who speaks perfect English, and McWhiskers is an Andalite nothlit?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah."

Tom was silent for a moment.

"Taylor...what's her secret meant to be?"

"Besides from being insane?" Gafrash asked, "Nothing that we yet know of."

Tom suddenly grinned. A mad, power-hungry grin that I didn't like. We all knew what was going through his mind.

((Uh-oh.))

"Your secrets," he said (probably more to himself than us,) "I tell them to the Council of Thirteen, and I could be promoted! Just like that! I'm sure they would pay a high price to a clever and witty Yeerk who hands in an advanced android, a prodigy Hork-Bajir and an Andalite Bandit!"

We all gulped. Even McWhiskers, and he's a rat.

((But...)) McWhiskers said, ((If you tell them _our _secrets, then we'll tell them _yours._))

"No!" exclaimed Tom. He abruptly dropped to his knees and began begging. I began to record the footage. You never know when this material might come in handy.

"Please, anything but that!"

((Very well,)) sighed McWhiskers patiently, ((But from now on, it's tit for tat, Tommy. As long as our secrets are safe, so are yours.))

Tom frowned. "Tit for tat... that's a strange human expression for an Andalite to use."

((Well I'm a very smart Andalite. I can also speak Rat-a-nese.))

Tom gasped, and sincerely looked impressed. "Woah!"

Tom then decided to walk upstairs to raid Taylor's fridge, because he was apparently hungry. A little random perhaps, but nobody here was complaining.

As soon as he was gone, I asked McWhiskers, "Just out of curiosity, what's Tom's secret?"

((When he thinks nobody is looking, he pretends to be a famous ballerina. Nobody ever suspects the rat...))

* * *

When Tom returned, we continued reading Taylor's email from where we left off.

The email went on to explain a plan, which strangely, seemed sane enough. Two acquaintances both, Vissers were going to join in a tradition Earth marriage on the upcoming weekend.

According to Taylor, this had become a new trend among Yeerk society. Instead of Yeerks taking the normal, traditional Yeerk approach (which didn't even involve marriage, but simply reproducing and then dying, if the Yeerk was the female) they had decided to try a more exotic method.

Taylor had mentioned that she was unsure how the two love birds (or should I say "love Yeerks") were connected to the Vissers. But, I suppose it wouldn't be long before we found out.

Our job, like always, was to humiliate the Vissers, get the the evidence, and get serious rewards. And with a wedding in to play, Taylor thought the opportunities for us would be rather interesting.

Only, she was too lazy to help us. I was still busy being annoyed by this. Instead of helping us capture evidence, she was busy being sick with the made up illness, "the Swine Flu."

Pttf, the Swine Flu. What a stupid name for a flu. Come on Taylor, I'm sure you could be a little more creative than that.

"But why should we?" asked Gafrash, "What is stopping us from simply wandering off to Father Deep knows where and slacking off?"

I froze as I read the PS message at the bottom of the email mentally.

**PS: If you even think about slacking off, I will find you. As proof of your attendance at the wedding, I demand the bride's bouquet...Because I..._we_ are going to get married next!**

**...to Erek.**

Gafrash saw the message, and fell into a violent laughing fit.

Tom leaned over my shoulder curiously, "What's so -" he didn't get to finish the sentence, because he also was cast in to a wild fit of laughter.

Thanks a "bunch", Taylor.

* * *

Strangely enough, Taylor had given us three separate addresses. I hadn't thought much it until now. But little did I know that it would end in us being involved in a wild goose chase.

The first address was one of a rather ordinary looking apartment block. We stood there for a moment, looking at the block with utter bewilderedness.

"Sure we have the right place?" Tom asked.

I unfolded the piece of paper from my tuxedo pocket and re-read the details.

**Saturday:**

**Unit no. 108, Smithson Building, West Street, (insert name of town/city and our state name here). 6:00pm**

**15 Pleasant Way, (insert name of town/city and our state name here.) 8:00 PM.**

**Sunday:**

**Meadow Park, Fields Road, (insert name of town/city and our state name here). Midday onwards.**

"Looks like it is," I replied, before sighing.

Gafrash frowned. "I wonder what atrocity we will get to participate in today."

With that, we walked on towards our destiny – the Smithson building.

The place didn't look all that flashy inside. It wasn't one of those expensive, high-class apartment buildings, but it wasn't an absolute dump either.

As we headed up to the appropriate floor, Tom suddenly said randomly, "I need a mint."

He began furiously scavenging through his coat pocket, trying to recover a mint.

"Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly, "there's a giant hairball in here!"

I eyed Gafrash.

"Don't look at me, Android!" he exclaimed, "Just because I started coughing up hairballs a week ago and Taylor had to take me to the vet doesn't mean I chucked one in Tom's coat pocket."

"Uh..." Tom said suddenly, and stopped his scavenging.

"What?" I demanded.

"The hairball. It's moving."

"Surely my hairballs didn't mutate _that _much," mused Gafrash to himself.

"Grab it," I suggested.

Tom did. And when he pulled it out of his pocket, we discovered it wasn't really a hairball at all.

((Ohh! Stop that! Don't hold me by the tail!))

Out of his coat pocket, Tom pulled out McWhiskers.

"A hairball indeed..." muttered Gafrash.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. I wasn't too pleased that McWhiskers had tagged along without our permission. We all knew that he and Gafrash didn't get along very well, and if he was going to participate in our missions then obviously that was going to cause a few problems.

((I got a temporarily banned on the Hannah Montana forums for trolling. What can I say? I was depressed. It was an impulse decision.))

I frowned. What was Hannah Montana? Better yet, what was trolling? Nothing I had ever heard of, that was for sure.

"GAFRASH!" yelled Gafrash randomly, "URLEKSALMARKOFIKTRESDAIDANP!"

With a ding, the elevator doors opened. Without any warning, Gafrash pushed us out, and closed the doors on us. He had even said that sentence in Hork-Bajir so fast, that my translator chip couldn't translate it.

"Hey!"

I stared sullenly as the digital screen displayed the floor number the elevator was now currently at.

* * *

"That wasn't very nice!" exclaimed Tom.

"Indeed..." I muttered, "Strange, too."

4...3...2...1...and, he was running for an escape just about now.

We all made a quick agreement to leave it at that. Gafrash had obviously seemed to have suffered from some sort of panic attack (he had been getting a lot of those lately...), and we wouldn't pester him any more about it. For now, we decided just to head over to room 108.

When we arrived, there was loud, blaring music and chattering coming from inside.

((Somebody's having a party,)) commented McWhiskers, who was sitting on my shoulder. I allowed him to sit there on the condition he wouldn't poop on me.

"Why am I never invited?" whined Tom.

((So...)) began McWhiskers, ((Who's gonna knock?))

Tom and I both stared at McWhiskers. McWhiskers and his beady little rat eyes stared back at us with utter confusion. ((What?))

"Well, McWhiskers, if that really _is _your name," Tom narrowed his eyes, "Since all the other group members have been to the Skrit Na Home world and back in order to reach success, don't you think it's your turn to make a contribution?"

((Not really,)) he admitted wearily.

But neither Tom, nor myself, would have it.

I grabbed him off my shoulder with one hand, and placed him gently on the floor. I then kneeled down so I was in McWhisker's view, and tapped on the bottom edge of the door with a finger. It took McWhiskers a few seconds to get what I was implying.

((Uh-uh! No way am I crawling under the door!)) he protested, ((I may have lost a bit of weight since Taylor got me that hamster wheel, but not enough as I could fit under _there_.))

Statistically, I realized he was actually right. The space between the floor and bottom rim of the door was way to narrow for him to fit through. But sometimes, violence does wonders to statistics.

Tom used his foot to nudge McWhiskers right up to the gap beneath the door.

((Wa-wait! What are you doing?!))

"Let us know if you find anything interesting, and report back."

And with one vigorous shove of Tom's foot, McWhiskers slid under the door.

It took about a minute or so for Tom and I to hear back from McWhiskers. And when we did, some questionable music had just started playing from under the door, along with a chorus of whistling.

((SON OF A - !))

Immediately, McWhiskers tried to run back out of the room, even managing to beat statistics and fit under the door on the way back. Once he had successfully made it back over to home turf, he laid on his back, his little feet up in the air.

((Principal Chapman...cake...routine....Visser Three watching!)) he exclaimed, before falling in to silence. My guess was he had just passed out from whatever he had seen.

I instantly tried to make sense of what he had just said. Given what he had just said, I managed to put together the three most likely theories.

A) Principal Chapman was eating cake, while watching Visser Three go about his every day routine.

B) Visser Three was watching Principal Chapman eating cake while he went about his everyday routine.

Or worse of all, Principle Chapman jumped out of a cake, performing a routine while Visser Three watched.

...Wait, WHAT!?

I tried to block the image my system generated, but to no prevail. The damaged was already done.

"Guys," I sighed, "I think we may have just stumbled upon a Bachelor Party."

"My human host is laughing right now, though I have no idea why," Tom mentioned. He then leaned down to pick up an unconscious McWhiskers, and stuff him in his pocket.

"So where to next?" asked Tom.

"Nowhere," I replied, as we both began walking back towards the elevator.

"Why?"

"Think about it," I said, "If this was a Bachelor Party, then what do you think the next address Taylor gave us will be?"

"Uh..." Tom said, "My host is saying a fancy-dress party."

Clever, real Tom. Real clever.

"Bachelorette party," I corrected. "And if there's anything worse than a Bachelor Party, then it's that."

"So what are we going to do now?"

"What could we do?" I asked, probably more to myself than Tom. "We're down two...three people. And after what just happened, there is no way that I'm going anywhere near that second address. So this is what we'll do: Go home for the afternoon. Get some rest. We already can make a good guess on what the second address is. Knowing Taylor, the third address she gave us will be the actual address of the wedding. Tomorrow, we'll start new."

Tom agreed that this sounded like a good plan, and we went our separate ways for the afternoon.

* * *

When I walked in to the club house (aka Taylor's basement, just in case you've forgotten) the next day, Gafrash was busy having a very loud phone conversation with someone in Hork-Bajir.

"Urk saff youbik! Jaa yonp-sap ju nok! Dekuhg nel doyup mek urkta." he protested angrily to whoever was on the other end.

The reason Gafrash was talking in Hork-Bajir was probably to avoid being understood. However, he may not have been aware/may have forgotten that I had an inbuilt translator chip.

That's why as soon as he protested, "No, not that! I can handle it myself! I won't be requiring any assistance." I gave him a puzzled look and went over to stand by McWhisker's cage.

"Who's he talking to?" I whispered discreetly to the rat/Andalite bandit.

((Don't know,)) McWhiskers said, ((And I don't care. Ever since that damaging experience yesterday, how could I ever care for anything again?!))

I snorted, "Don't be so emo."

Gafrash instantly hung up on whoever he was talking to.

((What's emo?))

"You know..." I began, "I don't really know myself."

"GAFRASSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" screeched Gafrash. He then jumped on Taylor's couch, and began clawing at the cushions.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" I demanded, running over to the pillow death-scene, "Don't rip those apart! Taylor will be furious!"

Gafrash ignored me.

All the while that I was trying to persuade Gafrash to take his unknown stress out on something that Taylor wouldn't give us hell about, Tom entered the room. I saw him from the corner of my image sensors gaze upon us with an express that pretty much summed up...

"What in the name of the Kandrona is going on!?" he shouted.

Gafrash stopped his clawing. I stopped my yelling. Heck, even McWhiskers stopped running around in his hamster wheel. I took a moment to mentally chuckle on how unusual it was that Tom was actually being listened to. But meh, stranger things have happened.

It was then that Gafrash stopped killing the cushions, recomposed himself, and said he was going upstairs to make himself a cup of tea.

When he had left, Tom was the first to spoke up. "That was strange," he commented, "Does Gafrash normally act like that when I'm not around?"

I shrugged, "Sometimes. But come to think of it, he's only started doing it recently."

We all pondered that for a moment, but it all turned up blank. We agreed that whatever it was that was making Gafrash like this, we should just sit back and ignore it.

...Easier said than done when you're an android who is use to spying on people, a gossip-magazine obsessed Yeerk, and an Andalite Bandit rat.

* * *

I like weddings. They're a pretty non strenuous event where you sit down, listen to so and so getting married, then it's time to dig in to the free cake.

But this wedding wasn't going to be a picnic, even if it was set in a park famous for its large variety of rose bushes.

I swear, Yeerks have gotten stranger and stranger over the years. First invading this planet, using oat meal for erh... "recreational" activities, and now they're having human weddings. Oh well, it's not like I should be the one complaining. I've gotten married quite a few times in the past. Of course, it was all in order to sustain my cover, but anyway...

The day in Meadow Park was a happy and sunny one. High-ranking controllers were busy buzzing too and throe, like the bees to the flowers. Many of them were socializing with others, in the hopes of making high connections. Others were there for the free food table. Either way, this day was looking to be very promising.

Tom and I had taken Taylor's car (which must have been repaired, because it started making death threats again as soon as Tom put the keys in the ignition, thus almost making him collapse from shock,) to the venue, dressed very smartly in our tuxedos. Originally, Gafrash was meant to be in the car with us. However, this isn't what happened on the day. Gafrash hadn't been seen since this morning's meltdown, where he tried to murder Taylor's couch cushions then proceeded upstairs to make himself a cup of tea. By the looks of it, he wasn't going to be at the venue.

However, there was somebody who was...

"Look who it is...." I murmured to Tom, then motioned over to suspected Council of Thirteen member, Mischa. She was casually leaning up against the wall, drinking fruit punch.

Tom glanced over at Mischa, then looked confused. "She looks...familiar," he admitted.

"Familiar?" I demanded, "She knocked you on the head with your own crutch, therefor sabotaging our Library plan. How could you not remember that?"

Tom simply frowned and rubbed his head, "Oh," he said, "So that's why my head hurts."

I sighed. "Come on, we may as well ask her why she's here." Tom and I started making our way over to Mischa when...

"Conga, conga, CONGA! Conga, conga, CONGA!"

...we got cut off by a controller conga line.

"Conga, conga, CONGA! Conga conga CONGA!"

We casually waited for the Conga line to pass. In the mean time, Tom checked his watch and I let out a giant fake yawn.

The line passed. And then sure enough, Mischa was then nowhere to be seen.

"I've coined a new name," I muttered.

"For what?" asked Tom.

"The Conga Line – the name used to refer to events where we are close to reaching a goal, but get yanked away at the very last second."

Tom just frowned, and looked on straight ahead. After a while of standing in the depressing silence, I decided to speak up.

"Well, it doesn't look like those pictures are going to take themselves. We may as well split up, see what we can do."

"Good idea," Tom agreed, and from his tuxedo pocket he took out a camera, note pad and a pen.

I stared at him strangely, prompting him to explain himself. He didn't get the meaning of my look, and stared back in utter confusion.

Though I wanted "facepalm", as they say, I resisted temptation.

"What's the note pad a pen for?"

There was no bother asking about the camera. Tom pulled those out of thin air, anyway.

"I'm going to make a log," Tom explained, "And if something happens to Mr. Click, then I'll have a log to look over to see what went wrong, instead of relying purely from memory. Besides from that, it'll give Taylor proof that we were actually here."

The only thing I could do was assume Mr. Click was the the camera.

But when I thought more in depth about it, Tom's idea really wasn't too bad. Each time, The Conga Line seemed to be pulling us away. But if there was some force, perhaps invisible to our sight but not to that of pen and paper, we could figure out the reason behind the occurrence of all our failures.

Having nothing left to really discuss, we went our separate ways for the event.

* * *

**My Log Book**

**12:30**

**Trotted off to survey the surrounding areas, with my trusty camera at my side.**

**12:34**

**Stepped in something that bared resemblance to my natural state. Disgusted with what I had done, I flicked my shoe, only to have the unknown content to fling off and hit Visser 32 in the eye. **

**Walked away discreetly, feeling a vague sensation of what humans call "Deja vu."**

**12:36  
Host informs me that the unknown substance was just a edible fungal native to Earth (known as a "Mushroom,") marinated in black pepper sauce.**

**12:45**

**Caught Visser Three trying to pick up high-ranking, blond controller with the line, "How about we go back to my portable Kandrona and soak some rays?"**

**12:47**

**Laughing hysterically from when the Visser got rejected. Host surprisingly joins in.**

**12:52  
Wandering around aimlessly.**

**12:56**

**Contemplating the meaning of life.**

**1:00**

**Considering getting a Twitter account for further use.**

**1:08  
Visser One walks behind giant tree in center of park.**

**1:10**

**Groom walks behind tree.**

**1:11 – 1:20  
Nothing.**

**1:21**

**Groom emerges from with a smudge of a red, unknown substance on his face. Watching as he walks off.**

**1:25**

**Visser One walks out from behind tree. Notices that coincidentally, the human beauty enhancer worn on Visser One's lips is the same color as of that on the groom's face.**

**1:26**

**Confused.**

**

* * *

  
**

I know I should have been busy keeping an eye on the Vissers. But instead, I was left with that remaining irritation over the Conga Line.

Mischa...surely she hadn't gone far. Maybe if I explained to her that her buddy Gafrash was telling me nothing, she would cough out some info.

So I searched the camp from high to low.

I mean that literally, too. I don't think I left a single rosebush unturned in that whole entire park.

But of course, all my effort had been in vain. I didn't find Mischa.

What I did find, however, was Chapman and a random controller having an intense conversation about the importance of correct use of pencils on school grounds. Needless to say, it wasn't very exciting listening in on this, so I was relieved when somebody called us all in to the tent in the middle of the park.

Besides, after what had happened yesterday, I don't think I could ever look at Chapman the same way again.

The tent was acting as a sort of church for the wedding. Inside, there was an altar set up and rows of benches in front of it.

Everybody scuffled inside, talking quietly amongst themselves as they took their seats.

And then, the lady on the organ in the corner of the tent began playing that cliché tune. The groom stood nervously at the altar, waiting for his bride-to-be to come through the door.

And then, the tent door opened. In want two bride's maids (one who which included the one and only Visser One) holding flowers. In the middle, was the bride. Behind her, there were two more brides maids who were holding the long trail of her dress.

Now, having quiet a bit of experience in Visser Humiliation, Tom knew when was the right time to take photos. Though nothing had happened yet, he knew a catastrophic event on the Vissers's behalf was not far off. It was as if the knowing was engraved in Tom's little head. He took out Mr. Click from his pocket, stood up, and got ready to take a picture-perfect.

Everything was looking very promising.

Until....

Until everything stopped moving. The wedding music stopped. The bride stopped. The controllers stopped gossiping under their breaths. Everything just stopped.

Now, my first guest would have been the Ellimist. After all, he had thrown a Frisbee at me on one occasion, so I presumed he had some involvement in the outcome of our plans and what occurs in them. But, alas, this theory was soon proved wrong.

Visser One was still moving down the aisle. That is, until she realized nothing else was moving. She looked around, startled and confused. "What in the..."

She wasn't alone. Visser Three, who was sitting a few rows in front of me stood up, and pointed a finger at Visser One. He opened his mouth to speak, most likely to accuse Visser One of some wrong doing, but instead got cut off.

"Damn it!" a voiced shouted loudly. All of our heads snapped to the source of this sound – a very angry looking Mischa, who was all situated a few rows in front of me. To say she looked frustrated would be an absolute understatement. She was fiddling around with some sort of mobile phone. At least that was what it looked like.

"As the amazing, awesome and all powerful leader of the Yeerk Empire, I demand to know what is going on!" Visser Three, erh, demanded.

"You mean third," scoffed Visser One.

Visser Three ignored her remark.

Mischa looked up quickly. And when she realized she had the company of two confused Vissers and myself, she turned a little bit pale.

"Oh no," she sighed under her breath in pure dread, "I'm going to get in so, _so _much trouble for this."

"Wait, slow down," I insisted, "You're going to get in trouble for what? What is happening here?" It seemed even after I said something out loud, the Vissers didn't notice my presence. How stuck up. I used to do Catherine the Great's hair, you know.

Mischa wasn't so fast to acknowledge me, either. She just kept on fiddling with the remote...

_...which caused a giant vortex to open up in the middle of the tent and suck us all also in._


	13. Out of the Wedding, and into the Vortex

**A/n: Hello everybody! Long time no see, huh? Yes, I'm still alive. I recently got back from student exchange, and ready to get back into fan fiction writing again. Although it has been over a year, I never forgot this place.**

**Just an apology in advance for any spelling or grammatical errors. I've been back two months now, but occaisionally I still make blunders in English and accidentally substitute English words for ones of my host language. Hopefully I haven't done it this time. **

**Enjoy! **

**Chapter 13 – Out of the Wedding, and into the Vortex (Part I)**

System Error log:

Error code: B1f5a2

Description:  
Unexpected system shutdown. Loss of data may have occurred.

Reboot system?

**OK **-Cancel

_You have chosen to "Reboot". Please wait patiently while we reboot your system and work on recovering lost data. Thank you, friend._

Somehow, this wasn't exactly what I expected. And what I mean by not expected is waking up on Taylor's couch in her basement with nobody in sight and over 24 hours worth of memory data missing from my hard drive. It was not a good start to the day.

"Hello?" I called lamely into the quietness of the basement. The words echoed back into quietness.

Great. Just _great. _

I sighed, got up from the surprisingly expensive IKEA-bought couch, and began to climb my way up the stairs when….

((Oh hey, you're awake.))

I frowned and spun around. "You just noticed now?"

((Well, I was too busy writing a blog reply to somebody who flamed my Everworld fanfic. Jerk,)) said McWhiskers, who had apparently been sitting on the keyboard the whole time. ((You didn't hear my typing?))

I shook my head and descended down the stairs. "What happened?" I asked.

((Hm, about what?)) he asked with genuine curiosity, while continuing to jump from key to key on the laptop with the grace of a swan. He had definitely been improving recently.

"Oh you know, just about winding up on this here couch with 24 hours worth of memory data missing. Nothing overly serious," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

McWhiskers, who had now stopped typing, turned to me and shrugged. Which was a strange gesture for a rat to be doing.

((Don't go getting all suspicious over me,)) he protested, ((at least I didn't drag you hologram-less down the stairs and plunk you down on the couch like Gafrash did.))

"Dragged? Hologram-less?" Even after saying both those words out loud, I couldn't quiet decide on which one I was angrier over more. When I found that lousy so-called Hork-bajir, I was sure to give him a good pounding…with words. Violence doesn't solve anything.

"Any idea where he is now?"

"Didn't say. As he was dragging you down the stairs, though, I kept on hearing him mumbling something under his breath about someone called "Mischa.""

My holographic eyes narrowed. _Mischa._

The suspected council of thirteen member. An acquaintance of Gafrash. The last person I saw before getting sucked into that vortex. _The last thing I could remember._

She definitely had some explaining to do.

I checked my data recovery program. Part 1 of the data was 97 percent recovered.

98…99...

Recovery complete.

I clicked on the memory file, thus closing off all my sensors to the outside world. And as I did, I could hear the fading voice of McWhiskers.

"NOOOO, not the damned enter key! I don't want to retype my memoir for the fifth time, I don't want tooooooooo…"

I woke up to the radiant glow of dusk (or quiet possibly dawn) illuminating from a semi-dark sky. That, and a very alert looking blond towering over me, holding what appeared to be a dracon beam in my direction.

"Woah," I exclaimed, and then instantly went quiet.

"Woah?" she repeated, her face cringed and she looked disgusted by such a word. "You get sucked in to a vortex; ruin my plan, then wake up to me towering over to you, and all you have to say is _woah_?"

"Well, that's all I could think of to say. You sort of caught me off guard."

She didn't reply, but instead turned around and stared in to the radiance of the sunset and sighed.

While she did so, I decided than rather asking her what was wrong, it would be better to get up cautiously and run for my life from the physco and her gun. I was in the middle of my plan, when she quickly swirled around, dracon beam pointed at my head.

She grinned sardonically. I, on the other hand, let out a gulp.

"Think you could escape, eh?" she asked, that same grin failing to die from her smug face.

"Well, I thought I could at least give it a shot," I admitted.

She ignored me. "Have you got any idea what you have done, android?"

I shrugged, "fallen in to a vortex?"

"Correction," she corrected, "You have ruined my mission. You have ruined your own mission. And unless we find a way out of here, you may have doomed your entire universe."

"Who are you anyway?" I asked. I really knew I should have reacted with a, "What on earth are you talking about?" reply, but for some reason those were the only words I could bring myself to say.

Her eyes narrowed even more than before. She was like that for about two full minutes, just simply standing there and glaring at me with all that she could muster. It goes without saying, of course, that she didn't exactly make me feel comfortable.

Finally, the cycle was broken.

"SCREW IT!" she shouted loudly, "!" She stomped her foot down on the ground, and threw down her dracon beam with utter anger and rage.

((Ow!)) replied a not-too-happy Visser Three, who had been enjoying a midday snooze (otherwise known as unconscious) until now. I really have to stop with this "not being alert" thing.

And then, of course…

((WHO DARES DISTURB THE SLUMBER OF THE ALL MIGHTY VISSER?))

Mischa sighed, and surprisingly didn't seem as cheesed off as she did only a matter of seconds ago. How could somebody's personality change so rapidly?

Apparently, her sigh was a little too loud for the Visser's liking, because one millisecond later his tail blade was at her throat.

I froze, praying that Mischa wasn't the kind of scum that would blame her misdoings on another. Luckily, she wasn't.

"Who, me?" she asked in a sort of unphased and routine manner, as if this had all happened before. She stood there with her hand on her hip, not looking at all concerned by the very notorious-looking Visser that stood before her.

Something was definitely wrong here.

((YES, YOU! THE PATHETIC COWERING HUMAN!))

Her eyes narrowed. "Pathetic?"

"Hey, where's Visser One?" I asked, and a brief scan of the area. I was pretty sure before my visual drive blacked out that I saw Visser One go flying into the very same vortex.

"Oh," said Mischa, who was able to crane her neck just enough to scope the area out without become decapitated by the Visser's tail blade, "Uh oh."

((WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT COLLOQUIAL EXPRESSION, HUMAN?))

Mischa replied in two very simple words. "SCREW IT!"

"Careful there," I warned, in all-out seriously, "be careful not to murder the English language. Overused of words like that are – "

She cut me off. "Why do you care?" she questioned, "You're a damn android!"

And there it was. After all the Chee's efforts to keep out identity secret from both Earth's society and visiting (read, "invading") aliens, it was all over. All that effort, all that cautiousness, just…wasted. And why? All because an unintelligent teenage acquaintance of Gafrash's who has a habit of overusing the words "screw it." While it was scary situation, it was really more embarrassing than anything.

((An…android?)) the Visser muttered dumbly, rather similar to Tom on that faithful day. He lowered his tail blade from Mischa's throat, absentmindedly forgetting that he had been holding her hostage. Guess even an all mighty Visser can't remember everything.

Quick Erek, think of an excuse. Process the data, process the data, process the data….!

"Uh, yes!" I exclaimed, "I am an android! But that only because…uh…you're dreaming! That's it!"

I thought I saw Mischa roll her eyes.

((If I am dreaming, then where is Visser One?)) demanded the Visser, ((Visser One is always in my dream!)

I her Mischa stifle a chuckle.

Visser One?

"Uh…she's around. Somewhere."

((Huh, okay.)) And so, without any suspicion, it was left at that.

Meanwhile, I tried not to think about what the Visser had just said. Instead, I decided to ask Mischa who she was again.

"Who are you really?"

((I AM A THE MIGHTY VISSER THREE, CONQUEROR OF THE –))

"Not you, her." I pointed at Mischa.

Visser Three looked at Mischa curiously.

Mischa, realizing that this time she could not escape the answering of my question, summed up her feelings in a very straightforward way.

"Screw it."

_End data log part 1._

Mischa's agitated face faded out, and the dustiness of the club room faded in.

((NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHY COMPUTER, WHY I SAY? WHY HATE ME WITH SUCH HATEFUL HATE, WHY -))

I frowned, "How long have you been doing that for?"

McWhiskers stopped gnawing the enter key of the keyboard. ((A while,)) admitted McWhiskers, ((Have fun listening to it?))

"I was too busy viewing recovered data."

McWhiskers looked disappointed. As disappointed as an Andalite-nothlit rat was able to, anyway.

"Well, I'm off."

((What, why?))

"Going to see if I can find Gafrash. Or Mischa. Chances are if I just wander around for a while I'm going to run into one or the other sooner or later."

((Have fun. Make sure when you're exiting the house that you go around to the front door to through the living room instead of the kitchen.))

"What, why?"

((Probably better you don't ask.))

Just as I predicted, I ran into Mischa – outside of the local 7 Eleven.

I have been nonchalantly walking along the sidewalk, when all of a sudden Mischa, who had a large bottle of soda under her arm, flew out of the store.

"Ouch," commented Mischa, as she collided with my force field enforced hologram. She stood up, dusted off her jeans, and picked up her soda bottle. She then looked up.

"Oh," she said, looking sort of relieved for some reason, "It's you, android."

"Shhhhh," I shhhhed, looking at her with utter disapproval. "Secret, remember?"

She didn't reply. Instead, she unscrewed the cap to the soda bottle, and somehow managed to scull half of the bottle before the bottle overflowed with bubbles from being dropped across the pavement. Keep in mind, this wasn't exactly a small bottle either.

"Ahh," she said, sighing with content. It was strange seeing her do such a thing, especially considering that only a few hours ago I had watched footage of a very angry Mischa and her use of the term "screw it."

"Why did you do that?"

She wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "Good stress relief. Especially considering I don't drink." She looked around her sneakily, "at least, not most of the time."

"Lovely."

"So," she said casually and began strolling along the sidewalk. I quickly followed. "I suppose you want me to explain who I am. But in fact, I actually told you." Her lips curled into a grin, "Too bad I erased your memory, so it looks like you'll never know."

"Actually," I admitted, "My data recovery system is recovering the data as we speak."

_99 percent…_

"NO!"

_Part 2 complete. View footage?_

_**Yes – **__No_

"Well, see you Mischa," I said, and waved goodbye to her with a devious smirk on my holographic face.

All the while, I could hear the faint screaming of two words. I dare you to guess which ones.

Everything was as it had been. One forest. One Andalite/Yeerk. One android. One human.

And right now, both the Android's and the Andalite's heads were turned at the human.

The human just stood there. At first she had looked rather stressed, determined even. But when everything seemed hopeless, this stubborn expression of hers transformed itself into something of defeat.

"So you really want to know?"

(("Yes!")) exclaimed Visser Three and I, both at the exact same time.

"You won't believe me."

I pointed to myself. "Android," I stated. I then pointed to the Visser. "Alien living in the head of another alien. Do the math."

"Point taken."

Mischa then exhaled deeply (so deeply that it lasted for at least twenty seconds), and began speaking very quickly.

"Gafrash and I are members of the TKA, otherwise known as the Timeline Keepers Associated. We travel from dimension to dimension, stabilizing glitches in the fabrics of reality that could lead to destruction of very existence itself. And guess what? I'm not even from your dimension! So how you like those apples, eh?"

Visser Three and I just stared. A long, awkward silence ensured, until Visser Three found the courage to speak up.

((What does that have to do with the round, juicy earth fruits known as apples?))

We both ignored him. Not that the Visser seemed to mind.

"Well, I didn't exactly see that coming…" I admitted, "But anyway, why are we _here_?"

"I was busy supervising the situation at the wedding. Top secret, so don't even ask. Anyway, my Dimensional Manipulator Device malfunctioned, thus opening a vortex that led us here – a perfect example of a code gray dimension."

I frowned. "Gray?"

"Gray dimensions are pretty much dimensions which have beyond repairable conditions. Abandoned dimensions, if you will."

"That sounds cheery."

"It gets better – Visser One, while falling through the same vortex as us, must have wound up at a different exit. The good news here is that my DMD's vortex-opening function is, despite the error, still intact and able to transport us home. The bad news is…."

"We need to be all together at the same time for it to function?"

"Bingo."

((No!)) exclaimed Visser Three, abruptly and unexpectedly, ((We must save-erh, I mean, GO AND WATCH HER SUFFER!)) He thrust his weak Andalite arm forward, fingers curved into a pointing gesture, and yelled ((THE ALMIGHTY VISSER'S ARMY OF TROOPS, AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!))

"Uh, excuse me?" I asked. I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Sorry, Visser no can do."

The Visser did not like Mischa's reply. ((And why might that be, pathetic human?))

"Well," she said casually, "you could get killed. Or worse."

"You could too," I pointed out.

Mischa nodded. "True, true. But if one of _you _got killed…well, let's just say the result won't be a good one."

"Let me guess, you'll get the blame?" I guessed.

She grinned. "Again, bingo. That, and we might risk the collapse of your whole dimension."

"But would we really be much better just sitting here?"

"Considering all the things that could randomly jump out of the bushes and attack you…probably not," she replied honestly. She then pulled a strange gun from her pocket, opened it up to check the ammunition, and took it into the grip of her right hand.

"So with you, we'll be a lot safer, right?"

Mischa looked up from her gun. "Correction – either way you'll be unsafe."

((I would prefer to watch Visser One suffer rather than sit here in clear perception of many hazardous earth creatures.))

"Uh…yeah," said Mischa, "creatures…sure. Fine." She threw up her left hand (the one not holding the gun) with exasperation. "Having it your way."

Her eyes then darkened. "Just one things though – in this place, not everything is as it seems. There _will _be deceptions, there _will _be sights to horrible and awful that it would make you wish you didn't have eyes, and last of all there _will _be things that would appear to be utterly impossible. Remember that, okay?"

So off Mischa went, with us not following close behind. Off we went, proceeding further and further into the unknown.

All the while, I couldn't help but to wonder just why I didn't choose to take the day off.

"_Oh yeah, that's right," I thought, suddenly remembering, "Taylor."_

**A/N: CLIFFIE! **

**Okay, well not so much… after so long, I just had the urge to type those words. I hope you all enjoyed reading. I'll try to get the next chapter up pretty soon. Reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated! :) **


	14. Beach Bonanza

**A/n: Sorry everybody, this chapter took way longer than I expected. But on the plus side, it is twelve pages long, and ends with a cliffie. Enjoy!**

Beach Bonanza

"My face is sticky from human confectionary," commented Tom, not answering my question at all. He licked around his mouth. "But it tastes so good!"

"Duck!" yelled the volleyball player, but Visser Three simply frowned. "Duck?" he answered, looking bewildered, "I do not see any of these earth birds known as –" the Visser didn't get a chance to finish his question, because the next thing he knew the volleyball collided with his face and he fell flat on his butt.

…

Okay, so maybe I just back up a little bit….

Two days earlier, I had been replaying the memory I had regained from my time spent in the vortex.

…

_((Six bottles of Kadronal fluid on the wall, six bottles of Kadronal fluidddddd….))_

"_Shut up!" Mischa snapped, obviously not in a stellar mood. She turned to face the Visser. It was amazing how she could look at him without feeling the least bit of fear. Maybe she was used to it. Admittedly, I didn't know much about her to determine the reason._

"_I can handle humming. But if you ever, and I MEAN EVER, sing in front of me, god help me I'll –"_

"_Okay you two, break it up," I said, and held my hands out in a stop gesture, "Violence never solved-"_

_Mischa interrupted me, "Shut up and go murder more Hork-Bajirs, why don't you."_

_Before I had time to comprehend what she said, everything went black and I was left with the message: __**Error. Missing file.**_

_Still feeling rather number, I exited back into the real world – the sidewalk of a street. Two kids, who had been jumping up and down in front of me until now, screamed as I took a step forward._

"_He's not a manikin!" one screamed hysterically, and they both ran off._

_Manikin? How could they possibly mistake me for a manikin? Well, it was true that I had been standing perfectly still for the past half an hour or so, but still…_

_Still feeling numb from Mischa's words, I wandered back home._

…

This brings us to two days later.

At about two o'clock in the morning, I was in the middle of a matter of upmost importance.

In other words, I was having an arguing with the Chee who plays my father.

"I'm telling you, Maria tops it," I said, desperately trying to plead my case.

"Nu-uh," he responded, grabbing the remote and changing the channel over to another one of his corny gameshows. "Janice tops it. Hands down."

"I don't believe you."

"If you don't believe me listen to this – two days ago, Lourdes accidentally ran into Janice on the street. According to Lourdes, that Chee can yell. For five minutes straight without breath, she yelled at Lourdes, lectured her on manners, yelled at her some more, then screamed a long list of profanities at her." He shivered. I wasn't sure if he didn't it on purpose or not.

"But still, this is Maria we're talking about. If there's anyone who's number one scariest hag, then it's…"

I was interrupted by the phone. He looked at me. I sighed. "Fine, I'll get it." He grinned and went back to watching his gameshow.

I walked over to the bench in the next room, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I ask wearily, wondering who on earth would be calling at this hour.

"HELLO MY LITTLE EREK-PIE!"

No one on earth, apparently.

"Hello Taylor…" I reply, trying to hide my disdain. All of yesterday, I had moped about the house and refused to go out. Long story short, Mischa's insensitive remark opened some old wounds, and I didn't feel like facing, nor speaking, to anybody. I mean, how did she even know that anyway? That's why when Taylor rang twenty-eight times the day before, I refused to answer and made painstakingly sure that the Chee that played my father didn't answer the phone either. Not that I had to try hard, considering he hardly ever did anyway. He was always too busy with his game shows.

A couple of hours beforehand, I had decided that I couldn't go on like this forever and that I should probably try to put an end to my moping.

"You haven't been answering my calls, Erek-pie!" there was something in her tone that was somewhat warning.

"I've been…on holidays," I replied, probably not sounding very convincing.

Thankfully, this was Taylor I was talking to.

"Oh , that's fine then!" she replied, sounding as cheery as she always did. "Now," in one instance, her voice flipped to its serious tone. "Today. 8:00am. Clubhouse. Bring swimwear." With those brief words said, she hung up.

When I walked back into the living room and had plunked myself firmly onto the sofa, my father said; "Who was that?"

I shrugged, "some telemarketer trying to sell us something-a-rather."

He looked at me with suspicion, and I instantly knew that he knew I was lying. However, he sighed and looked back at the TV, deciding not to say anything.

Sometimes, I wondered how long I could keep this up.

Six hours later, I was at the door of Taylor's house on the lovely Tortionairre Drive with a towel slung over my shoulder, and projecting a hologram of swimwear around myself.

After ringing the doorbell three times without an answer, I was just about to turn on my heels and walk home when I heard a very loud bang and clatter originate from inside the building. The door abruptly swung open, and Gafrash stuck his head out.

"Erht kemplef toka ulk, Android!" he exclaimed, which my translator chip translated as:

"_Run while you still can, Android!"_

He stuck his head back inside the house (or more like he was pulled back in. The ferocious screech he let out gave me the impression that it wasn't quiet voluntary), and I was just about consider what he said and get on out of there when the door swung open again.

It was Taylor's turn to stick her head through.

"Hey, it's little Erek-y-werek-y!"

Huh, that was a new one.

"Come on in!"

I gulped, prayed for the best, and stepped inside. I instantly noticed the condition of the hallway; the pictures on the walls hanging at wonky angles, a tipped over pot-plant, and about twenty or so holes in the walls that may or may not have been made by the stabbing of elbow-blades.

"Uh, is everything alright here?" I ask cautiously as I make my way towards the basement steps.

Taylor giggled. It was a scary, I-know-something-you-don't giggle.

"Gafrash was not fond of the new costume I bought him for this mission. I am not at all sure why."

I frowned, and began descending the stairs into the basement. What I found there was Tom in a pair of red swim trunks lazing on the sofa.

McWhiskers was on his back with his little feet waving up in the air, laughing loudly in thought-speech.

Gafrash was also there, making an anxious attempt to hide himself behind a pot plant but failing miserably due to his height.

Suddenly everything made sense.

Taylor had forced Gafrash into a pink bikini.

"Nice bikini," I comment, and then jerk my thumb towards McWhisker's cage. "Also, who gave the mouse coffee?"

((Rat,)) corrected McWhiskers between fits of giggles, ((I thought you would have known that by now.))

"Rat…spoke!" exclaimed Tom, sounding a lot more surprised than I expected him to.

"Of course he did," I replied, "He is after all –"

Gafrash glared at me from his place behind the pot plant, and shook his head warningly.

I stopped mid sentence. Gafrash had some serious explaining to do.

"Erh, I mean…what I you talking about? Somebody didn't get enough sleep."

"Actually, that would make sense," Tom replied, and sat up straight on the sofa. "Taylor decided to ring me at 2:00-something in the morning, and told me to turn up here at 8:00 with a beach parasol and in swimwear."

I eyed the parasol lying against the wall over by Gafrash's Mona Lisa replica.

Tom continued. "I shiver with fear when I even contemplate what in the name of the black sun that Yeerk is going to drag us in to –"

"POTATO SALAD!" yelled Taylor happily, and she skipped down the stairs in a purple designer one-piece swimsuit. A large beach bag was slung over her shoulder. " – is what is going to be included in today's picnic lunch along with a large assortment of biscuits, dips and cheese that we are going to be eating at THE BEACH!"

Gafrash, Tom and I groaned.

Taylor pulled a dracon beam out from behind her back.

We were all of a sudden unexpectedly enthusiastic about the mission.

Taylor went over to McWhisker's cage and knelt down so she could make eye-to-eye contact with the nothlit.

"Sorry McWhiskers," she said, her voice sympathetic, "I know how much you would love to go on one of our missions, but it just isn't the right time."

((That's what you think, nutcase.))

Of course Taylor couldn't hear him.

She stood back up, and then turned to face Gafrash. "Come on Gafrash, it's time to go." When words didn't work, she tried to forcibly pull Gafrash out from behind the tree.

"Come…on…Gafrash!"

Seeing this opportunity, McWhiskers exclaimed, ((Assortments of crackers, cheese and dips, here I come!)) and he wriggled his way out through a hole in his cage, jumped with off the table with a shout of ((Geronimo!)) He landed with a small thud on the back pack, then proceeded to wriggle his way in to the main pocket (Taylor had forgotten to zip it all the way up).

Once Taylor had succeeded in pulling Gafrash out from behind the tree (which didn't prove an easy task, especially considering how large the Hork-Bajir is) she slung the backpack over her shoulder, raised her normal hand in the air, and shouted at the top of her lungs,

"Visser Humiliation Club, away!"

She then stormed up the stairs.

((Hey, I found the Jarlesberg!)) McWhiskers commented from inside the backpack.

"I think I've lost my appetite…" I muttered, as I followed Taylor.

"Aisk kek trafnok jukl," Gafrash pointed out. _You never had one to begin with._

The car ride to the beach was hardly eventful. As soon as we got in the car, Taylor slipped in her CD, which began playing some song by some artist I had never heard of. She continued to replay the same song, which was about someone's "Poker Face." Oh well, at least it was enough to drown out the death threats that Taylor's car made automatically.

All the while, Taylor sang along at the top of her voice, which results in some very weird looks from other drivers due to Taylor having a roofless car. Tom managed to fall asleep, and was snoring. Gafrash's left eye began twitching and did so for about half the trip, which after a point starts to drive me more insane than the ludicrous song Taylor was playing.

"Will you stop that?" I demanded. Usually such minor matters didn't bother me, but for some reason it did.

Gafrash snorted, "And do what?"

I shot a look at Tom.

Gafrash shrugged, which looked rather weird considering it was a human gesture. "He's sleeping through Taylor's music. He can sleep through anything."

"Point taken. Now, would you mind explaining how I got sucked in to another dimension?"

Gafrash turned pale. "Wh…you remember? But that's – I mean…" It was obvious that I had caught him completely off guard. "Don't talk so loud! Tom might hear."

I jerked a thumb at Tom, who had his head tilted backwards, mouth wide open, and was snoring.

"What happens to sleeps through anything?"

"But –" Gafrash was just about to say something, but stopped the split second the music turned off.

"Bark good," he stated, falling back into his role of everyday Hork-bajir.

Taylor stared back from the driver's seat. "We're here!" she exclaimed happily. She grabbed all the belongings from the front seat, which she had managed to fit in a jumbo, purple beach bag. For some reason, she refused to put any of her items in the trunk of the car, claiming that it was already full. This resulted in us unfortunate three being stuffed in the three back seats (with myself in the middle) and Taylor in the driver's seat.

"Here good!" replied Gafrash, "Gafrash eat here! Gafrash make here cry, "GAFRASH! GAFRASH!"

I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"That's nice Gafrash," Taylor replied, "Now, somebody wake up Tom." She then skipped off happily down the foot path, and onto the sand.

Once she was out of hearing distance, I turned to Gafrash. "Seriously, Gafrash?"

"Sorry," he apologized, "I do admit that it what not a very well thought-out reply."

I sighed. "Fine." I looked at the snoring Tom. The audacity of his snoring rivaled that of a lawnmower.

"Are you going to wake him?"

Gafrash looked at me like I was crazy. "Am I going to wake him?" he replied, as if he couldn't believe what I had just said.

"Yes that's what I just –"

Gafrash interrupted me, "I have woken Tom once before. The result was not a good one."

"Should I even ask?"

"It is probably best not."

"Here's say we ditch him."

"Seconded."

With that, we both got out of the car, walked down the footpath, and headed to where Taylor had her beach umbrella set up. Wait, how did she fit that into her bag? Upon arrival, Taylor looked at me seriously.

"Where is Tom?"

"He's uh, gone to the little Yeerk's room," I replied, and sat down on the beach mat. Taylor didn't question me anymore, but instead spread out her town, put on a pair of sunglasses, and laid down on her towel, back facing the scorching sun.

"Now," she said, "Tanning. Erek, go and take Gafrash for a walk." I smirked. Gafrash grunted disdainfully.

As I walked off with Gafrash to explore the seashore, I pondered whether or not I should have warned Taylor about applying sun block. In the end, I decided it probably wasn't the best idea considering how the Yeerk normally coped with criticism.

As we strolled along the beach, passing swimmers, and people walking dogs, and just general beach goers, I caught Gafrash making a disgusted face at the ocean.

"What's wrong?"

"I am not fond of the ocean."

"You're not fond of heights, you're not fond of the ocean," I started, "What are you fond of?"

He shot me a dirty look, but pretty much just ignored me.

All of a sudden, a volleyball came spiraling out of the air colliding into Gafrash's blonde wig – which of course, lead to one deflated volleyball. Just because his head horn wasn't visible didn't mean that it wasn't there.

Two volleyball players came running out, both of them with well tanned skin and the sparkling smiles of models. Both of them looked like something straight out of a swimsuit catalogue.

"Sorry about that!" apologized the man, "Are you okay?"

Gafrash didn't reply, but instead yanked the deflated volleyball off his head horning and handed it over. He did not look pleased.

The volleyball player didn't either, "Bummer," he said, looking at the ball.

"I know!" replied the blonde lady standing next to him, "We'll make it up to you with a game. How about it?"

"Ish tupf nokot denshun kemu," commented Gafrash. _"That's possibly the stupidest idea I've heard all day."_

Both the volleyball players looked at him, their expressions puzzled.

"He's from, erh… a small town in eastern..uh, Turkmenistan!" I laughed and slapped Gafrash on the back. He shot me a death stare. "And he said _of course I'll play!"_

As it turned out, Gafrash wasn't the best volleyball player ever. While he had great intellect in comparison to other Hork-bajir, the only physical capability he actually excelled in was destroying things.

That's why, when Gafrash leapt a giant length after the ball, only to go face first into the sand, I couldn't help but to suppress a chuckle. Eventually I changed over with the guy, (I had to pretend to be tired in order to sustain my cover, you see), and sat nearby, watching in utter amusement as the masculine volleyball player managed to get three goals in less than half a minute.

About five minutes into their game, I noticed Tom heading for me. He must have finally have woken up from his nap… What on earth was that smeared on his face?

"Have a nice nap?" I asked, as he approached.

"My face is sticky from human confectionary," commented Tom, not answering my question at all. He licked around his mouth. "But it tastes so good!"

"Duck!" yelled the volleyball player, but Visser Three simply frowned. "Duck?" he answered, looking bewildered, "I do not see any of these earth birds known as –" the Visser didn't get a chance to finish his question, because the next thing he knew the volleyball collided with his face and he fell flat on his butt.

Yes, as it turns out, Visser Three was also visiting the beach that day. It was strange, because I actually hadn't noticed that he was here until now.

"Blasted imbeciles!" he exclaimed, "how dare you try to assassinate me with an inflatable toy!"

"Sorry dude," replied the volleyball player, "I don't suppose you want to play too?"

"Do I want to play?" replied the Visser, evidently angry, "Why in the name of the Kandrona would I want to –"

"Unfortunately for you, Esplin here is too much of a coward," interrupted a new, familiar voice. My eyes widened in disbelief. Visser One had stepped onto the scene for apparently nowhere.

"Visser One? What are you doing here?" .. I was wondering the same question.

"I am here to play volleyball. Do you have a problem with that, Esplin?"

Visser Three laughed. It was a harsh, insincere laugh. "You? Volleyball? Don't speak such rubbish!"

Visser One was not phased. "Volleyball is a sport of concentration and skill – something that you would obviously not be able to win in."

Even one simple remark by Visser One, of course, was enough to make Visser Three explode with rage.

"I would certainly beat the likes of you, pathetic scum!"

One minute later, the two Vissers were engaged in a full on, rather epic volleyball game.

Both them dived, slammed the ball, tumbled and turned. Both Tom, myself, and the two volleyball players looked on as Visser One scored one point after another after another. In one last desperate attempt for a point, Visser Three slammed the ball so hard, that it went nowhere near the other side of the net – instead, it flew into the ocean.

Visser One threw up her hands with exasperation.

"Look what you have done now, Esplin!"

Visser Three was about to make a snide reply when Visser One started heading for the ocean.

"Wh-where are you going?" exclaimed Visser Three angrily.

Visser One made a "Pttf" noise. "Come on, we _both_ know that you can't swim."

"I can to!" Visser Three shot back.

"Prove it."

Trying to come across as much more brave than he actually was, Visser Three puffed out his chest, and headed towards the ocean. Only, when his foot came in contact with the ocean, he shrieked and fell back.

"I…uh… twisted my ankle!" he exclaimed, "Damn this primitive morph!"

Visser One rolled her eyes with exasperation, and headed out to the surf.

Suddenly, a certain something dawned on me. Visser One heading out go get ball, Visser Three waiting on the shore…what if…

I got up from where I had been sitting, and began to sprint across the sand. Luckily for me, Tom and Gafrash were too transfixed on the two Vissers to notice me take off. Once I had gained distance, I began running towards the vast, blue ocean.

As I dived into the ocean, I was brimming with confidence and the thought of failure wasn't present – it was the perfect plan.

I began swimming furiously towards Visser One, and bobbed my head out for a split second, just in time to see her take hold of the ball.

Action time. I plunged into the water again, and changed my hologram to that of a massive shark. The plan was, upon seeing the shark, that Visser One would scream and cry for help thus forcing Visser Three to overcome his fears and save her. Granted, a photo of Visser Three with Visser Three in his arms was not the best photo that we could possibly send to the Council of Thirteen, but heck, it was better than nothing.

I made my way towards Visser One, making sure to stick the dorsal fin of my holograph shark out of the water to give the scene a Jaws-esque feel.

Visser One began flailing, and I could hear her scream even from below the surface.

"Shark! Shark! Esplin, help me you useless Yeerk!"

I began to circle her, feeling rather pleased with myself and my failsafe plan.

…

That is, until something went wrong.

The shock and stress of being circled by a shark must have became too much for Visser, for only seconds later she dropped below the surface, unconscious. She had fainted in the middle of the ocean!

I cursed my so-called well thought out plan. This couldn't be happening! If I didn't get her to dry land soon, I realized, it was highly likely that she would swallow too much sea water and die.

The words of Mischa replayed in my mind.

"_Shut up and go murder more Hork-Bajirs, why don't you."_

No…I wasn't going to be a murderer. Not again.

I snapped my hologram back to human. I forced myself to swim deeper into the depths of the ocean, where I swum under Visser One and pushed her up to the surface.

"Somebody! Call the paramedics! She's swallowed sea water and…" I hooked my arms around the Visser's shoulders, tugging her gradually to shore.

Once on land, I laid the Visser out flat on the sand, where a crowd of people were starting to assemble. I saw Gafrash eye me, a look of knowingness in his eyes.

"Somebody give her CPR!" exclaimed the female volleyball player.

"I'll do it!" exclaimed the masculine, male volley ball player as he loomed over Visser One. Without warning, Visser Three butted him out of the way.

"Pitiful human!" he exclaimed, "What would an idiotic earth male like yourself possibly know about CPR? Leave this to a professional." Visser Three looked like he was about to do something, then stopped.

"…What is CPR?"

As the male volleyball player began explaining it to him, Tom saw his chance. He hurried up the beach to where unattended belongings had been placed. He hurried through the bag, eventually pulling out a camera, thrusting it into the air, and shouting, "I proclaim thee Flasher!" before hurrying back to the scene.

At this point, as I looked on at the tragic event unfolding before my eyes, all I felt was numb. Even the unfortunate implication of the name Tom had given to his camera wasn't enough to snap me out of my state.

No matter how evil Yeerks may be, if she died… how could I have done something so stupid?

I began to walk away from the scene, fearing the consequence of my actions. Evening when I heard Visser One cough up water, as alive as ever, the numbness still lingered. Eventually, Gafrash ran up to me, and we walked side by side to where Taylor had been sun baking on the other side of the beach.

We walked in silence for a short while until I finally asked, "You're not going to say anything?"

Gafrash replied curtly, "My IQ is high enough to know when I should not speak, android."

When we had finally arrived to where Taylor, she had already packed up all of her belongings into her jumbo purple beach bag and was waiting for us intently – she was also as red as a tomato from not applying sunscreen, although neither Gafrash nor I were prepared to say anything.

Taylor frowned. "Where is Tom?" she asked. At that very moment, Tom came rushing down the coast, camera in hand and yelling, "I've done it! I have taken photos of the Vissers engaged in CPR with the most splendid, primate human device!"

"Good work Tommy!" Taylor said, praising the ecstatic Yeerk. "To celebrate, I'll make more potato salad!"

All of a sudden, Tom wasn't so ecstatic anymore.

"McWhiskers, we're home!" called Taylor, as we arrived back at her house. She shoved her purple beach bag into my arms, commanded that I take it to the basement, and then headed off to the kitchen to make more potato salad.

The three of us made our way into the basement, Tom stroking his camera as if it were the cat, Gafrash still covered in sand, and myself – still utterly depressed that my plan could have resulted in the loss of a life. Tired from his day, Tom collapsed on the sofa and began to snore like there was no tomorrow.

I unzipped the purple bag. "Okay McWhiskers," I said, my voice completely void of any happiness, "Time to come out." I gave the bag a little tap.

No answer. I frowned, and began digging through the bag, pulling out the plastic bag that Taylor had put cheese and crackers in, but now was nothing but crumbs.

There was an eerie silence that followed, and Gafrash and I looked at each other, only to look back down at the bag again.

_McWhiskers was gone._


	15. The Tragedy of McWhiskers

**A/n: A big thanks to all of my reviewers for their patience and support. I wish I could write more frequently, but unfortunately my school work has other ideas. So, after a huge hiatus, here is the next chapter. Brace yourselves for a huge, huge, cliffie.**

**Oh yeah, and excuse the typos. My proofreading skills, whilst they are existent, still remain as lousy as ever.**

The Tragedy of McWhiskers

Sighing, I opened the letter box and removed the single white envelope. There was no point in actually getting the letter out (well, besides from trying to avoid my "father" stumbling upon it), as I knew very well what the contents were going to be.

Leaning against the fence, I tore open the envelope and took out the fancy, expensive looking paper out and unfolded it.

_You are invited_

_To the funeral of the much loved_

_~ McWhiskers ~_

_To be held at Paine Park_

_Tortionairre Drive_

_The 20__th__ of July_

_Commencing from 2:00pm_

_Bring snacks._

Only a couple of days earlier, we had gone on a club outing to the beach. When we arrived back at the club house (aka Taylor's basement), Gafrash and I realized that McWhiskers, who had snuck into Taylor's beach bag in order to feast on the cheese and crackers, had not come home with us.

Neither of us were entirely worried about the Andalite nothlit's wellbeing. Chances were, he was either living the high life in a dumpster somewhere snacking on all-you-can-eat garbage, or he had been reunited with his people. While we both seemed accepting of these theories at the time, there was evidently a number of things wrong with it.

First of all, why would McWhiskers choose to leave the comfort of the basement for the outside world? He had always seemed so happy there, spinning around on his little wheel and surfing the internet when Taylor wasn't looking.

The second was that, while it may have been true that he had wanted to reunite with his people, _who _was there to reunite with? The only two Andalites on earth was Visser Three's host body and Ax. There was also the fact that McWhiskers didn't seem to act like a mainstream Andalite, so any interaction he would try with his own people may quiet well end up in rejection due human-like attitude. I guess years on Earth do that to everybody.

So, while both of these theories were still probable, there was a certain something that just seemed off.

Anyway, like I said, neither Gafrash nor myself were overly concerned. Gafrash may have been even happy that he was gone, considering how the two normally got along. However, explaining the situation to Taylor was not going to be easy.

That's why we flipped a coin. For once, luck seemed to be on my side and Gafrash got stuck with the job. He then proceeded to apologize to me for his "following actions", stripped some bark off one of Taylor's pot plants, stuffed it in his mouth, and proceeded to run around in circles like some lunatic, shouting "where McWhiskers? Me no see McWhiskers? Gafraaaaaaash!"

While I did indeed find this amusing, I probably more than anything found it perplexing especially considering Gafrash could have just as easily have faked his panicking without resulting to the means of bark. But heck, it could have just have been that he wanted to go that one extra step to reinforce his act – or that he needed relief from the stress and decided to result to bark to do so. At the end of the day, his mentality _was _really no different from a human's.

Regardless, it didn't take Taylor very long to find out.

When a tall green goblin-like creature runs around your house breaking flowerpots and leaving indents in walls, it becomes sort of hard not to go down stairs in order to question the culprit. If my memory data serves me correctly, the conversation between Taylor and Gafrash went as followed:

"Oh, poor Gafrash! Have you got a tick again? I think it's about time for a revisit to the vetty-wetty!"

Gafrash replied in a very Gafrash manner. "McWhiskers gone! McWhiskers gone! GoOoOoOoOoOoOnE!" Although I hated admitting it to myself, Gafrash's ability to highlight capital letters in speech was most impressive…and sort of creepy too.

Anyway, as you can imagine, Taylor was skeptical.

"Silly Gafrash!" she exclaimed, before skipping over to McWhisker's cage. She gestured to it. "McWhiskers is right…"

And that was when, as they often say, all hell broke loose.

I should spare you the details on what happened next. All that I will say is that is, at the end of the day, Gafrash was left sobbing over his obliterated Mona Lisa replica and I was left to call a builder about sealing up all the holes that had been shot in to the wall. I knew then that years would go by since that day, and Gafrash and I still wouldn't have spoken a single word about what occurred in that room on that given day.

"And Tom?" you may ask, "where was Tom when Taylor suffered some form of violent breakdown from the loss of her not-really-a-rat-but-secretly-an-Andalite-nothlit pet?"

Fast asleep on the sofa, of course.

* * *

This brings us to roughly twenty-four hours later.

Now, there are a number of ways in which one can choose to describe Taylor: eccentric, unstable, hyperactive, deadly, trigger-happy…you even get the occasional intimidating thrown in every now and again. However, "mopey, withdrawn and shattered" were usually not adjectives associated with the deranged sub-Visser.

However, on that particular day it just so happened that all of that changed.

As I strolled down (read "cautiously crept down") the stairs into Taylor's basement, I was met with something that looked like it had come fresh out of a brochure advertising skiing in Europe. Upon closer inspection, however, I found that the blinding white that blanketed the basement floor was in fact not snow, but hundreds upon hundreds of tissues.

Although upon any other occasion of paper wastage witnessing I would usually think about the unfortunate fate of the trees, I somehow couldn't bring myself to do it.

Something was wrong here.

Very, very wrong.

"Taylor?"

…No answer.

"Taylor?" I repeated, "I bought you a gift basket."

Some of the artificial snow shifted. Bingo.

Tying not to think about the bacteria that I was about to come in contact with, I inhaled deeply and dove into the snow, starting towards the corner of room where the human-sized lump laid. Before I had fully approached the lump, however, a head emerged from it and low and behold: Taylor.

Only, she didn't look like Taylor.

Her face was a red as a tomato, tinged with black from her tear-smudged mascara. Her clothes were crinkled, and, now that I think about it, no different than yesterday's (trust me, the fashion conscious Yeerk would never wear the same thing twice in a row) and, probably the most noticeable: her eyes.

I had seen the same eyes before many times over my long, long life.

But never on her.

It scared me.

It scared me so much that, after half a minute of standing their looking like a dumbstruck idiot, all I could muster was to hold up the gift basket and say awkwardly: "It has potato salad in it, you know."  
Yes, it did indeed have potato salad in it. I had witnessed the 40-something year old woman with the mole in the shape of Idaho on her face at the Deli scoop up the potato salad and put it into a container in the duration of 5.8 seconds – which I endured with a cringe.

Taylor sniffled.

"W-why?"

It didn't take me long to figure out that she wasn't talking about the potato salad. Before I knew it Taylor was clinging on to me, crying like a baby into my shoulder. It was a very…strange moment.

"There, there…" I muttered, awkwardly patting Taylor on the back.

No answer.

"I'm sure that he's gone to a better place."

Meaning a garbage bin. Or the sewers. Or a litter-ridden back alley.

Either way, still no answer. I decided to go for something sappier.

"Although he may no longer exist on this world –" (which may have actually been true considering his people may have swung by Earth to pick him up and take him back to the Andalite homeworld) "- his spirit will remain here with us forever."

Silence fell as Taylor stopped crying.

_Phew, finally, _Ithought, perhaps a bit too soon as Taylor next decided to blow her nose on my Ralph Laurence polo shirt.

Or, well, my projection of one anyway. Just because I'm an android doesn't mean that I can't be a stylish android.

"You're…You're…" she stuttered as she tried to hold back tears, "You're absolutely right."

"I am?" I blurted out. Her reaction had caught me off guard. "I mean…yeah! Of course I'm right!" I proceeded to take a deep breath, composed myself, and then prepared to blow her away with my awesome speech-making skills that almost once made me president a few hundred years back. Oh yes, Maria was ticked about that one.

"Just because somebody is dead doesn't mean that they are gone…Sure, their body is problem decaying somewhere, gone back to the earth, or in this case the stomach of a humongous seagull,"

Quick Erek, composure!

I cleared my throat, "I mean, ah, the point is, nobody is truly gone. Rather, they continue to live on inside our heart, guiding us wherever we may go. The end of a life, no matter how short…"

Or wasted. The rat spent most of his time on the internet, running around in his wheel, and typing out his memoir for crying out loud.

"….is a truly saddening event, but we must look past such sadness, and acknowledge such life as the splendid miracle that it was!"

My work here is done.

Taylor sniffled again loudly. Although, as I was about to realized, it wasn't an "I'm upset about losing my pet not-really-a-rat" sniffle. Taylor, it seemed, was genuinely touched.

This day was getting weirder and weirder by the second.

"You're absolutely right!" she exclaimed again, only this time she resulted to thrusting one of her arms up in the air triumphantly. Her voice then became unexpectedly loud. Then again, Taylor is Taylor so unexpected shouldn't technically exist. "We must not let my darling McWhisker's life remain unremembered! We must not let his crouton-eating and his running around in his wheel all day be in vain! We must acknowledge him for the fluffiest, tiniest, most adorable member of the Visser Humiliation Club that he was!"

I blinked. Wasn't I the most adorable?

"Don't you see, Erek? Today isn't a day of mourning…."

Long pause.

"Today is the day that we plan McWhiskers funeral."

…And so that was how I accidentally persuaded Taylor to hold a funeral for McWhiskers. And what a mistake that was going to be.

* * *

You know, I really wasn't expecting to see a big turnout at McWhisker's funeral, and not for solely one reason, either.

One: The invitations were given out a day before the funeral was to be held.

Two: The sender was marked as "Taylor Talesdale" in big bold letters on each envelope – not exactly encouraging for former any former colleagues that used to work under, or still worked under, the slightly mad sub-Visser.

Three: Nobody who was going to be getting the invitations would actually know _who _McWhiskers was.

And finally, four: For a race who spends the equivalent of millions of earth dollars on weaponry, portable Kadronas and, well, oatmeal, the Yeerks ultimately turn out to be pretty stingy – meaning the "bring snacks" comment that Taylor had written on the invitation wasn't going to win anyone's favor.

So, needless to say, the odds weren't in Taylor's favor.

However, as I stood in the middle of Paine Park in the sweltering heat at 2 o'clock noon, I made a remarkable discovery: the odds were on holidays.

The flow was slow at first – just a few Yeerks who had decided to turn up to see what the commotion was about (or rather, because they were scared of what Taylor would do to them if they DIDN'T turn up). However, as the minutes came and went, the individuals arriving became pairs, and the pairs became groups, until suddenly the whole of Paine Park was filled with countless Yeerks dressed in black, socializing, weeping, and standing around idly.

I could not believe my holographic eyes.

"Isn't this wonderful, Erek?" cooed a belated Taylor, jumping out of seemingly nowhere. "Doesn't this show how much McWhiskers was loved?"

"He was certainly…loveable alright," I replied, trying to refrain from grimacing as a memory arose of the time that he accidentally peed on the clubroom floor and made me clean it up. Yup, loveable.

It was then that something caught my eye. Standing next to the tiny coffin that stood on a pedestal (the coffee was bodiless, mind you, but Taylor had liked the thought of such a symbolic gesture), wearing an expensive looking black dress and blending in remarkably well with the rest of the mourners was Mischa. Where on earth did she keep on popping up from?

"I'm, erh, going to see if I can find Tom," I lied, and started across the park and towards Mischa. Now, given what had occurred on all of my previous missions, I was fully prepared for the emergence of what I had dubbed "The Conga Line" – the intangible force that continued to keep me from success. However, as I made my mad dash across the park, my path was surprisingly clear – more or less anyway. I managed to step on one of Visser Forty-Eight's many feet, which resulting in them letting out a long Taxxon-typical screech. Thankfully, Visser Forty-Eight is renowned for being a bit of a drama queen, so nobody as so much batted an eyelid and I proceeded on my merry way.

"Well, that was easy," I remarked as I reached Mischa, "No conga line."

Mischa cocked an eyebrow, "Conga line?"

"Never mind. So Mischa, care to explain why you are here? Or, would you care to provide me with my missing memories from the vortex? Or, would you care to tell me why Tom doesn't remember that I'm an android – don't deny it, I know you and Gafrash have something to do with it. Go on now, take your pick."

She frowned. "No, no and, erh…he may have slipped a little something in to his orange juice."

"A little something?" I replied dryly.

"What, do you think that that was the only time that Tom found out details that he wasn't meant to know?"

…

_"Look who it is..." I murmured to Tom, then motioned over to suspected Council of Thirteen member, Mischa. She was casually leaning up against the wall, drinking fruit punch._

_Tom glanced over at Mischa, then looked confused. "She looks...familiar," he admitted._

_"Familiar?" I demanded, "She knocked you on the head with your own crutch, therefore sabotaging our Library plan. How could you not remember that?"_

_Tom simply frowned and rubbed his head, "Oh," he said, "So that's why my head hurts."_

…

…Huh. So it wasn't the impact of the crutch.

"So, why are you here again?" It couldn't hurt to try a second time.

Mischa scowled. "What part of 'no' can't you get your mechanical brain around –"

"Actually, the correct term would be 'hard-drive' but I guess you could-"

"Screw you," she shot back instinctively, "And if you really must know, I'm searching for someone who shouldn't be here."

"In case you haven't noticed, a lot of these people shouldn't be here. They haven't even met McWhiskers."

"That's not what I –"

"BOW BEFORE VISSER THREE AND HIS GRAND BIRTHDAY PARTY WORTHY ATTIRE!"

The socializing, the weeping, the standing around idly and the remaining hundred or so odd activities that the controllers were engaged in were instantly halted as all eyes turned to the latest guest to rock up at the funeral.

….The latest guest who happened to be wearing the most hideous Hawaiian beach shirt that I'd had ever seen. Seriously.

Visser One, who had arrived at the funeral earlier and had been chatting with other high profile controllers over near the snack table (which could hardly be considered a snack table due to having only half a bowl of potato chips, a half eaten jar of salted peanuts and an untouched bottle of soft drink which had expired in October of the previous year), also acknowledged Visser Three's presence, but instead chose to do so by something that is called "face-palming".

She then spoke up snidely, "If Visser Three here can't even co-ordinate his outfits to suit the appropriateness of an event, then how will he ever be able to co-ordinate his ways in order to ensure the prosperity and expansion of our great empire?"

Yeerks and their politics. Figures.

"At least I understand the definition of "appropriateness" to the extent that I won't sleep with Sub Visser 15 there."

The nonchalant looking controller that was standing next to Visser One side quickly side stepped a few feet to his left.

It was then, among all the tension and silence, that a lone, untraceable voice called up amongst the quiet….

"FIGHT!"

….and absolute chaos was unleashed.

Yeerk gained up on fellow Yeerk, and before you knew it they were screeching and howling like animals, pulling hair, throwing punches, and even resulting to the dirtiness of tripping.

And there I stood amongst it all, wondering how a perfectly peaceful funeral had gone from civil to hectic in only a matter of seconds – McWhisker's disappearance wasn't the only mystery here.

Meanwhile, as the political tension gone astray continued its wreaking of havoc, Tom happily say in the tree and snapped photos with his new iPhone. Heck, even though the dust clouds were too thick most of the time to figure out who was clawing who, but at least if one the controllers' faces made it on to a photo he would have some handy blackmailing material. Yes, from that branch in the oak tree life must have been pretty good for the power-hungry Yeerk at that moment.

Taylor, however, didn't not seem to be enjoying the fiasco.

"But- But-" she stuttered, tears welling up in her eyes, "You can't –You can't-"

She was ignored. That is, until she decided to take a more drastic measure. Using her pure willpower and determination, Taylor embarked on an admittedly epic journey, as she made her way through the crowd and arrived at the microphone stand, snatching the microphone into her hands. Then, after tuning the speakers to full volume she proceeded to yell into the microphone:

"SHUT UP YOU UNGRATEFUL DAPSENS!"

The fighting instantly stopped, and the crowd grimaced in agony as they covered their ears. Once they had gotten over the initial pain that is Taylor's already loud voice combined with a huge speaker set at full volume, they all turned their attention towards the furious Yeerk.

Taylor turned down the volume on the speakers.

"Shame on you all!" She shouted across the crowd, "Shame on you all!" Tears, once again, began to well up in her eyes.

"We came here today to honor a life of a comrade, to pay our respects to one of the most noble yet simplest lives to have ever have roamed this somewhat inferior and backwards planet! And instead, what do you do? You fight, and dishonor McWhisker's memory!"

"Who's McWhiskers?" I heard once Yeerk who standing close by ask.

"I don't know," replied the other, "I just came for the snacks."

"Do you think that this would have been what he would have wanted? Do you think he would he would be _happy _to see you fighting?"

_Since McWhiskers enjoyed sparking fights on online forums, yes, probably but…_

"Take a good look at yourselves! You should feel disgusted to even call yourselves Yeerks!"

It was then, following Taylor's patriotic and moderately touching speech, that Yeerk looked at Yeerk, and they hung their heads in shame. Somehow, just somehow, they were starting to see the error in their ways, which I couldn't help to feel was just a tad too much out of the ordinary….What was with this day?

Anyway, long story short, there was something about Taylor's plight that touched the crowd, including the embarrassed looking Visser One and the teary looking Visser Three, who was wiping discretely at his eyes with his matching Hawaiian patterned handkerchief before anymore saw and deemed him "soft". Somehow, just somehow, she managed to gain to control to such an extent that she was successfully able to direct the crowd civilly to their seats and force them to listen to the farewell speeches.

"McWhiskers was a…good mouse…" choked Taylor from the podium, who then proceeded to ramble on about how good he was, how he enjoyed running around in his hamster wheel, and how he gnawed on the bars of his cage for a whole 25 minutes. During this time, most of the Yeerks managed to fall asleep, whilst the remainder picked at their nails, stared blankly at their feet, or checked their phones when Taylor wasn't watching.

That's why, when a tall and rather gangly Hork Bajir ran by in the background carrying what looked like a bazooka, nobody noticed. Where on earth had he been all this time?

…Or better yet, what on earth was he doing?

I frowned as I observed Gafrash run across the park, and down the street into the distance. Something wasn't right here. For a second it occurred to me to escape. However, I quickly reconsidered, as the consequences of Taylor finding out I was I had played hooky on her speech were far from appealing. Besides, Gafrash was always doing weird things. I could surely wait until the end of the funeral to track him down and ask him, couldn't I?

So anyway, Taylor finished my speech, Tom's began, and then mine followed not too longer after. It was at this time that the crowd began to disperse, as it had been a long day for all the guests who had an invasion to run and an innocent race to conquer. Mischa too also apparently had things to do, as she was nowhere to be seen. By five o'clock, all that was remaining was a few lower ranking Yeerks, scanning the grounds for any valuables (eg. watches, jewelry) that may have been torn away from their owners in the earlier scuffle.

Sighing, I went to sit on the park bench and wait for Taylor (who was staring longingly at McWhisker's tiny casket whilst packing up the fold-out chairs) to give me permission to leave.

"Who knew that one rat could be this missed," said the random controller sitting next to me.

I shrugged, staring off into the distance and not bothering to make eye contact. "Yeah, well, he was a pretty…unique rat."

"Seriously though," replied the controller, "I haven't gotten this much attention since I posted all of those My Little Brony memes on the One Direction fan forums. Hats off to the nut-case."

I froze.

Slowly, slowly, I turned my head towards my bench buddy. And suddenly, so much made sense yet didn't, and so very much seemed so very wrong, as dread oozed and seeped in to whatever equivalent that I may have of a heart.

No…

Ho- But it was impossible…it was impossible but yet….yet….

And yet, there it was, that all too familiar face staring back at me.

"Oh yeah, Hi Erek."

_David._


End file.
